Number 001
by PoppyPickford
Summary: At the end of the war Harry and dozens of students are enslaved by a corrupt and cruel new ministry. Five years later, Harry finds himself with a new home and master. But with the help of friends and old enemies, he re-discovers magic, and love. SLASH.
1. Chapter 1

**_Title: _**_Number 001_

**_Warnings: _**_SLASH, AU, Slavery, D/s, Threesome, BDSM, Ambiguous Consent (implied)_

**_Genre:_**_ Romance, Hurt/Comfort_

**_Rating:_**_ M_

**_Pairing:_**_ HP/SS, SS/FW, HP/SS/FW (other minor pairings as well)_

**_Disclaimer: _**_I do not own any recognizable HP character, nor do I mean any offense. Thanks._

**_Summary:_**_ At the end of the war, Harry Potter and dozens of Hogwarts students are imprisoned and enslaved by a corrupt and cruel new ministry. Five years later, Harry suddenly finds himself in a new home, and with a new master. But, with the help of friends and old enemies he re-discovers power, and love._

**_AN:_**_ PLEASE TAKE NOTE OF WARNINGS!__ This story is not going to be something that appeals to everyone, so please be warned before beginning. If any of these warnings will offend you, please do not read. Having said that, I have been working on this fic for a long time without any intent to post it, but I think that I have a solid outline that I'm excited about working on it, and sharing it. If you enjoy what is here so far, I hope you stick around for more. I can tell you that there are a lot of good things in store for Harry. If by some chance you are reading my other story "Nom De Plume", please know that the stories are VERY different in genre and content. You can expect a more traditional slashy romance from my other fic._

_Thanks for reading!_

_-poppypickford_

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 – Arrival<strong>

"I'm just not amused by him any longer. I'm sure you understand, Severus." Harry's master chuckled. "It was fun to train him down to submission, but, now that he's so – well trained, there's nothing interesting about him. Besides, my other two know better how to please me."

After all this time Harry still couldn't help feeling like he'd failed at something, even if that something was not knowing how to make himself cry at the right moment, like George does. Or seduce perfectly and demurely like Lavender. Harry thought that learning how to obey, to finally abandon all of his silly heroic fantasies would be enough. But it wasn't. And now he would be sold, sold to someone whose hatred for him would only mean tortures crueler than anything Lucius Malfoy could think up. At least they couldn't actually kill the slaves, yet. That would have to be relief enough.

"He's certainly much improved from when I last saw him, Lucius. I must say the transformation is - extraordinary." Snape slipped the toe of his boot under the table to lift Harry's jaw. He was gentle, but it was no less humiliating. Harry was painfully reminded of the poking and prodding with boots and canes and wand tips when they had all been looked over during the initial trading process nearly five years ago.

His master pulled his hair back firmly to display his face. "He's a little older now, but not much. I think it adds character, don't you? And I've managed to wipe that stupid defiant look that he used to sport off his face for good."

It was easy now for Harry to keep his eyes properly shielded and his face set to the relaxed indifference and submission he was trained to display, especially when he didn't particularly want to see what was going on around him. Lucius hated it when his slaves looked him in his eyes for too long. As if he was afraid they'd find something there that he wanted to hide.

Lucius pulled Harry's head to the side sharply and began stroking his neck, along the collarbone where Harry's number was. "I took the liberty of calling the bureau and having his number officially assigned to you. I know the formalities are hardly necessary among friends. But, I do like to keep things neat and tidy. Organization is one thing our Lord could have done better, I think." Lucius snorted. "Number 001." Harry could feel the numbers raised against his skin as Lucius ran his fingers back and forth across the black scar. "I was proud to have him for a while. But, the charm of fame dwindles quickly. Doesn't it?" Snape didn't respond.

Harry dropped back to the floor when the grip to his hair was released. He kept his hands clasped tight behind him and his head bowed low.

"Well, unless you wish to discuss the next public broadcast again…" Snape said in his smooth drawl.

"No need Severus. I'll have someone edit the script for us, and that should be adequate." Lucius grabbed Harry's hands and hoisted him up to his feet with a firm tug at the wrists. "Are you sure you don't need him chained? He won't run, but, they're less to worry about with chains aren't they?"

"I'm apparating right home, so, that really won't be necessary this time." Severus lifted his hand out and Lucius pushed Harry towards him.

"Kneel before your new master." Lucius said, but it wasn't necessary because Harry was already at his knees, with his head on the tile next to Snape's... no, his_ master's_ boot. _His master_. The thought made Harry's insides crawl. He couldn't bear to think of this man - his childhood enemy - as his master. And yet, that's what he was, and there wasn't a thing Harry could do about it.

Snape reached down and took him by the arm with a tight yet gentle grip, as if Harry might break under his hand. Then with a tug he lifted him to his feet.

"Goodbye Lucius. Thank you for contacting me, instead of - one of the others. I'll owl you tomorrow."

His new master surrounded Harry with a tight hug. He hadn't been hugged by his old master once, not once in all the time he'd been a slave. It felt… but before he could decide what he felt, his head began spinning and the darkness behind his eyelids turned black and green and then orange just before it all stopped and his stomach began to do summersaults. Harry hadn't apparated since he was 17, and even then it made him sick. He stumbled a little and then dropped to his knees, hoping to disguise the approaching nausea.

Harry's new master stood over him for a long moment, his breathing low and even, controlling – something. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, master." Harry tried to sound confident but only succeeded in sounding like he was choking. He clenched his eyes tight hoping the large man beside him wouldn't kick him in the stomach before he had time to settle his nerves. The last thing he needed was to throw up all over his new master's polished entryway.

After a pause, Snape left without a sound or a command, leaving Harry relieved that he had time to calm down, but worried that he'd be forced to remain in this position his whole first night. It really wasn't too bad of a punishment, considering.

Suddenly Snape put a hand on his back and pressed his hips toward the floor. "Sit down and take a deep breath." Harry obeyed immediately. His master handed him a short glass filled with something clear and cold. Harry took it hesitantly, his mind frantically trying to remember what potions were clear. Trying to remember something – anything! But, he knew there was nothing there to remember. He never had cause to think about his old life.

"Drink all of this." Snape said softly. Harry nodded, then quickly closed his eyes and chugged it, his fingers digging into the glass. Water. It was just water. He sighed and finished the rest of the cool liquid slowly, moaning at the relief to his throat and stomach.

When Harry was done his Master took it from him and placed it on a table by the wall. "What – what do you need?" he asked.

Harry hesitated. His old master never asked him anything like this so he didn't know what a proper answer was. "Nothing master. I mean, anything my master wishes – I don't wish to be a burden to…" A hand touched his head gently. "Never mind Harry. Stay here."

From under his half-lidded eyes he watched as the tall black cloaked man disappeared down a hall and up a flight of red carpeted stairs. From what he could see, the home was much larger than anything Harry would have imagined Snape to own. It was lavish in some ways, and yet reserved in others. It was nothing like his former master's manor with its hundreds of rooms and towering torrents. He supposed that for Lucius, the richest man in wizarding Britain and the minister of magic, nothing less would be tolerated.

Snape's home however seemed as if it was a modest size, large enough to entertain other government officials, but not so large that it felt stuffy and empty. Harry liked that, he just hoped he could manage to stay out from underfoot here as well as he did at Malfoy manor. Harry adjusted himself from the sloppy sitting potion his master had allowed him to move into, and up to his knees with his hands in his lap and his head bowed. It was proper and submissive, but not uncomfortable. Then he waited.

Several minutes later Harry heard a door slam upstairs followed by two sets of feet coming down the staircase, one moved evenly and slow, the other practically galloped down like an excited puppy, but Harry couldn't see who the feet belonged to. Eventually his master's boots appeared alongside a set of bare toes. "I think he's feeling sick, but he's too nervous around me. Bring him to your room and find out what he needs." A gentle hand gripped Harry's arm.

"Harry you can look up now." His master's voice was kind but controlled, Harry decided. It reminded him of Lady Narcissa who liked to pretend to be kind, but quickly lost her patience. At least his former master's anger was predictable and ended in planned punishment. Lady Narcissa lashed out cruelly when she was angered. Harry wondered if his new master was the same.

Harry looked up into the eyes of the barefoot man and blinked. "George!"

But, it wasn't George at all. Harry studied the face in front of him in amazement. There was a long, raised, flesh-colored scar that ran from the corner of his right eye to his jaw. "Fred?" He whispered. The last time Harry had seen the other Weasley twin, his wound had been red and angry. It was this disfigurement that had kept Lucius from buying the twins together. Lucius had never officially told them what happened to Fred, but Harry had always quietly assumed that no one would have wanted him. That he was free, or dead. He glanced at his master expecting to be hit for speaking out of turn, but he only nodded in acknowledgement.

"Hey there, Harry." Fred said cheerfully. "Do you want to come with me and I'll help you get settled in? Get you some supper?" Harry was speechless. His master had always refused to tell them what had happened to the others.

Harry, George, and Lavender where the first chosen by the minister himself - they had been yanked away from all the others without as much as a goodbye. They assumed the rest were sold to other masters, but Lucius was careful to keep them from learning anything about the outside world – out of plain cruelty, probably. George had received a terrible beating his first week as a slave when he'd willfully demanded that their master tell him where his brother was. Harry and Lavender were forced to watch George as Lucius whipped him bloody and raw; all the while George kept begging to know. His only mercy was that his screams made it too hard for him to keep up his pleading. Eventually he was so worn out that he had no choice but to shut up. It was one of the few times that _not _screaming ended a punishment.

After that, George resigned himself. And for the most part he sank away into his own mind and almost never spoke to Harry or Lavender except when commanded, and always behaved with such impeccable perfection that he easily became their master's favorite. George was almost never beaten again after the first traumatic incident. That was when Harry realized that it was more than possible to beat the spirit right out of someone. He tried to resist it longer, but in the end he fell just as hard. Looking back Harry desperately wished it had been him who'd taken the first hard whipping. It was his fault that this had happened, after all.

Fred smiled brightly and gave Harry his hand. Harry let Fred help him up, then stood and bowed his head in the presence of his master.

"You can go with Fred, do whatever he says."

"Yes master."

Fred put a hand on Harry's naked back and pulled him close to his side. That's when Harry noticed that Fred was clothed. He wore a thin short linen robe in a gentle yellowish cream, clasped at the waist with a braided ball and loop. Harry hadn't ever been allowed to wear clothes. Not even George wore clothes. Not unless their master was having guests, in which case he wore small shorts and a loose vest to symbolize his status as favorite and to keep the guests from touching him without permission. Harry thought it was meant to make him look more like a lap dog.

Fred led Harry down a hall and toward a series of smaller white doors. They reminded him of the ones Lucius's human servants slept behind. At the end of the hall Fred opened a door next to a tall French window with a fresh green plant beside it. The Malfoys didn't have plants anywhere in the manor. In fact, Harry rarely saw anything green and alive anymore. With a tug to his hand, Harry walked inside.

"You don't need to stare at the ground like that Harry. Not with me." He didn't know much about Fred anymore, but if their master favored him like Lucius favored George than he was definitely a man Harry wanted to obey. Lucius considered George superior to the other slaves, even if George never did anything about his status rights.

Harry looked around the room. It was much larger than he thought; nothing like the tiny room he shared with Lavender and George, which only had thin mattresses on the stone floor and a toilet in the corner.

This room reminded him of his Aunt and Uncle's tidy little bedroom. Against one wall was a bright window, and on either side of it were two comfortable looking beds, both bigger than their beds had been at school. However, they weren't draped like most wizard beds. That would be silly - they were just slaves. But the beds were covered in a silky cotton blanket and supplied with two plump pillows. The walls of the room were a butter-cream yellow, like Fred's robe.

"There are two sides to the wardrobe." Fred told him. He opened the doors and exposed a simple wooden armoire with two separated sides, each with room for hanging clothes and each with three drawers. The right side was occupied with a few robes identical to the one Fred was wearing. There was also what looked like a winter robe, and… a flying robe?

Harry hesitated. "It's okay – I, I don't need anything like that. I don't have clothes."

Fred grinned. "Well you're going to have clothes here. The master doesn't take pleasure in humiliating us."

Harry thought he remembered being embarrassed - a long time ago, but he'd grown out of it. He thought it better not to argue. Maybe Fred had always been allowed clothes, and therefore was still embarrassed by his nudity. Harry shivered. The master must really favor his old student. Harry found that a bit humorous. He remembered how often the twins got detention with Snape.

Fred opened a connecting door that revealed a small bathroom with a shower-bath, toilet, sink and mirror. It wasn't elaborate but to Harry it was heaven. He hadn't used a bathroom privately in five years. Even showers were a public thing. All three of them huddled under one large, sometimes cold spray.

The last piece of furniture in the room was an end table between the two beds with a drawer and two little shelves. "You can keep books here from the library if you want to read in bed. And there's a house-elf who brings a pitcher of water at night. She'll also bring warm milk if you ask." He smiled. "We're allowed tea at breakfast on Sundays." Harry smiled back at Fred's obvious delight. He hadn't had tea in so long that he had forgotten its taste. But the lingering thought that he would be allowed to drink it again made is tongue ache for a phantom friend.

"Thank you." Harry said. "I'm sorry I'm moving into your room."

Fred's grin faltered. "Harry. Why would I be sorry to share a bedroom with you? I'm just so glad that the master finally got you out of there."

"He – He's been trying to buy me?"

"Well, you know, he - he heard Lucius was thinking of selling, and he –"Fred shrugged. "He's been wanting another slave anyway." Harry had learned to see through lies better than anyone. But he wasn't going to question this, he didn't want to understand something that would probably only mean trouble for him.

After a moment of tense silence Fred gently took him by the hand and led him into the bathroom, then turned on the shower and tested the temperature. He opened a little door in the wall and pulled out a fluffy white towel. "Here. When was the last time you had a shower?"

"I'm sorry. I know I must smell."

"No, no. That's not what I meant. I was just curious."

"We shower on Wednesdays and Sundays. But, I missed yesterday's shower because the master wanted – he wanted to say goodbye." Harry lowered his eyes, refusing to think about what his goodbye entailed. "So, not since Wednesday. Almost five days."

"Well you can shower as much as you want here. There aren't any rules about that. Just drop your towel in the laundry basket – here." He nudged a wicker basket in one corner with his toe. "And the house elves will wash it. There are always plenty in the cupboard."

Fred set the towel down on the seat and then pulled the shower curtain back. He considered Harry for a moment, who was beginning to squeeze his arms so tight that is nails dug into his skin. This new place was strange and reminded him too much of the comforts he'd worked so hard to forget. He was afraid of relaxing into these wonderful new luxuries. They made him nervous. His obedience and control were based around a firm and sometimes brutal set of formalities and rules – rules that he was used to now and almost comfortable with. Harry was terrified of change, even if it was for the better because it meant he might have to start all over again.

"You know, I need a shower too." Fred said sweetly. "Would you like it if we went in together? And I can help you, show you where things are?"

Harry was used to being pressed up against his fellow slaves, and he looked forward to the moments when they were allowed to touch each other, not sexually, just, touch – to feel each other's warmth and life. He nodded.

With a kind smile Fred pulled off his robe shamelessly. Perhaps he wasn't too embarrassed by his nudity after all, thought Harry. Fred's body was just like George in shape, size and proportion. But unlike George, Fred was fuller, healthier and his skin wasn't ashen and pale - it was golden and glowing as if he regularly went out into the sun. Harry looked down at his own legs. He hadn't been outside more than a handful of times in five years. He suddenly noticed how colorless his skin was.

Harry's knees were still a little wobbly so Fred held him around the waist and helped him into the shower, and then pulled the curtains closed. The other boy began by wordlessly scrubbing him, letting Harry stand frozen and unsure and still gripping his goose pimpled arms. Eventually, after he'd washed Harry's scalp with massaging fingers, and wiped at Harry's tear soaked face with a sweet smelling washcloth, he finished cleaning himself and then handed Harry the bar of soap and wet cloth.

"I'll be on the other side when you're all done." He smiled and wiped the water off his face before slipping out and closing the curtain behind him. Harry had loved letting Fred wash his hair and his shoulders, and feeling his hands rub affectionately over his bruised back. But there was still one place he had to clean, and he'd never enjoyed cleaning himself in front of Lavender and George, much less enduring it if Fred decided to clean Harry himself. He wouldn't have complained, maybe their master liked them clean in a certain way… but, still.

When Harry was finished he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Fred was waiting with a towel wrapped around his own waist, and another one in his hands. He dried off Harry's hair and arms and then wrapped it around his shoulders to defend against Harry's incurable case of the shivers.

They walked back into the room and Harry noticed a robe identical to Fred's, if not smaller and shorter lying across one of the beds. Next to it was a folded cotton shirt.

"Ah. Gabbie brought your robe." Fred lifted it up and held it to the light. It was simple, but it looked well-made and cool. Harry smiled. He hadn't had anything for himself in a long time. Next Fred held up the white shirt that looked incredibly soft, like a baby's blanket. "And this is for sleeping, but only if you want to use it. I sleep naked most of time, by choice."

He held it out for Harry to take before going to hang up Harry's robe in the closet.

"We're allowed to sleep with clothes on?" He asked.

"If we want to. Why not?"

Harry looked down at the folded cloth. "But, what if our master wants us?"

"Then he'll ask us to take it off."

_He'll ask us?_ Masters don't ask, they tell, they order, they take. Lucius would have been furious if any of his slaves obscured themselves from his view and easy access.

With a little sigh Harry shook out the fabric and pulled it over his head. It felt strange and foreign to wear clothes again, but it was comfortable and warm and made Harry feel just a little bit safer. It was unusually large, billowing over his shoulders and down his thighs. It must have been one of Fred's.

Fred rolled down the blanket of Harry's bed and motioned to it. "The master wants you to try and sleep after you eat something." Harry looked out the window. It couldn't be past three o'clock in the afternoon. But he did as he was told anyway. He shouldn't pass up the opportunity for sleep. Especially sleep in a bed!

"What do you want me to bring you for dinner? Soup maybe? Or, I think Gabbie has some roast chicken left from yesterday."

Harry brought his knees up against his chest. He wasn't used to being given a choice… about anything. But then again, nothing about this new place was normal.

"How about a little of both?"

Harry nodded, unsure.

Fred smiled encouragingly before leaving Harry alone behind a closed and locked door.

When he returned he was carrying a tray that held a large shallow bowl of brothy vegetable soup, a little plate with several slices of chicken, an etched glass cup with spring berries, and a tall sweating goblet of cold water. Harry jumped when it was set down on his lap.

"Is this okay?" Harry just blinked at it in wonder. He hadn't eaten like this, not once in five years. And to his knowledge, not even George was fed like this. The master believed in reinforcing George's position so that he didn't become lazy, or privileged. Not that George would ever, for a moment let his guard down. Before, they were always served in the back of the kitchens at a little wooden table with too small chairs. They usually ate some kind of a mash consisting of whatever the house elves had left over after serving the family, or the family's guests. If the food had once been fine, it wasn't once it got to them.

When Harry didn't touch his food Fred picked up a fork and began cutting up the chicken. He stabbed a piece and offered it to him. Harry who took the fork with an unsteady hand before Fred felt the need to feed him. Harry didn't want to be come across as helpless as he was feeling.

When he was finished and his belly was satisfied and warm from the hot soup, and his tongue singing at the unusual but pleasant taste of sweet berries, Harry set his fork down and looked to Fred for guidance.

"Can you sleep now?" Fred asked. Harry nodded.

"Good." He took the tray away and placed it on the floor next to the door. "Would you like it if I stayed? The master said it would be alright if I napped with you. Then later, he might come down and see how you're feeling."

Fred laughed at Harry's nervous expression. "Why are you so afraid of him? Has he done anything cruel to you yet?" Harry shook his head slowly. It was true, his master hadn't been too threatening thus far. But, Harry knew better than anyone how changeable people could be.

"He won't hurt you, really he won't. He just wants to check your progress. And I'll be here with you." Fred slid out of his robe and laid it over the end of the other bed before crawling in. Harry thought it was unlikely that anything Fred promised him had any merit. Slaves couldn't predict what a master would or would not do. Nor could they control them. But at least he didn't seem to have any serious concerns for Harry. That would have to suffice.

Harry slid further under the sheets and laid his head on the soft pillow, his eyes watching Fred as his chest rose and fell slowly in sleep.

Harry wished he felt as at peace here as Fred did.

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><p>When Harry awoke it was to the feel of soft fingers running gently through his hair. He opened his eyes slowly to see Fred sitting on his bed, smiling softly. It was strange, this new Fred. He was so joyful - unlike George who was obedient and good but nothing like the jovial twin he'd known at school. Fred however was just like Harry remembered, except, where there used to be belly aching humor there was now just clam serene sweetness, and gentle affection. Maybe Fred had been affected by the loss of his brother too. Just not in the same way. Besides, Harry suspected that his old friend must think that he was nothing like he was in school either. Harry knew he had changed, a lot, but he'd stopped caring about anything but survival a long time ago.<p>

Harry tried to grin, but he faltered when he saw who was standing behind Fred. Harry immediately jumped out of bed and fell to his knees before his master with his forehead pressed to the floor.

"I'm sorry master, I didn't… I mean, I'm sorry I was asleep. I'm sorry I made you wait for me."

There was a long pause. "Harry, I don't require my slaves to fall to the floor every time they see me." He sounded annoyed. Harry abruptly sat up on his knees, shaking a little, waiting to be hit.

Snape growled under his breath, and then closed his eyes to calm himself. "I didn't intend to yell." He looked at Harry. "I just mean that, if you feel you must kneel before me, I would rather see your face when I speak to you."

Harry looked up sharply. "Forgive me master."

Snape nodded and then gave Fred a desperate look that sent the other slave to a sitting position beside him, his hand on Harry's knee. They both looked up at their master.

"Are you feeling better? Did Fred get you everything you needed?"

"Yes master."

"And are you satisfied with your room?"

Harry's eyes widened. "Yes master. Thank you." He wanted to say that it was too much, or that he shouldn't have given Harry such lavish things, but, it wasn't his place to tell a master what he should or should not do.

"Good. And are you still sick," he looked Harry up and down with calculating eyes. "Or hurt?"

Harry wasn't sick anymore. The food was delicious and filling and he'd woken feeling better than he had in ages. As for hurt – he had a few welts on his back and thighs, but they were barely painful and barely noticeable. He was sore just about everywhere but it was nothing that anyone needed to be bothered with. "No master. I feel much better. Thank you."

Snape nodded. "Good. I think it best if you sleep the rest of the night and come to breakfast with Fred in the morning. I try to have breakfast with you, whenever I can. Can you sleep longer?"

"Yes master." Harry wasn't very tired, but so long as he was in that luxurious bed he could sleep for days.

Fred squeezed his knee encouragingly and then smiled affectionately up at his master. "Master, would it please you to speak to me now?"

Harry gave him a quick look before bowing his head. That sounded almost like – a request.

"Yes." Harry could see the master give Fred his hand and help the other boy to his feet.

Fred bent down and to catch Harry's lowered eyes. "Will you be alright for a little while Harry?" He nodded.

"Okay! I'll be back later." Then, hand in hand, the two – master and slave left Harry alone, confused, and still completely baffled by his strange new home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Story information, warnings and disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.  
><strong>

**A/N: **_Before you read this chapter which deals largely with Snape and Fred's relationship, I just want to assure you that, yes, you ARE reading Snarry. As detailed in the warnings and pairings, this is a story about a threesome relationship. However, as Snape and Fred's relationship is already developed, the romantic plot of this fic is centered mainly around Snape and Harry. Having said that, I hope you continue to enjoy the story. Beginning with this chapter, that M rating will begin to kick into full force.  
><em>

_Thanks, and enjoy ;)_

_-poppypickford_**  
><strong>

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 2<strong>

His master's grip on his hand was painfully tight as Fred promised Harry that he'd return later that closed the door behind him, and the lock clicked closed automatically. Immediately, Fred was pressed up against the wall and his master's hot open mouth was moving against his neck, sucking, biting, and kissing.

"What –" Fred gasped, "what do you need from me Master?" Fred smirked when his master gently bit him.

"You know what I want, don't tease me."

Fred moaned and ran his fingers up his master's back until he was gripping him around the shoulders. His master was rarely this eager. Usually he maintained himself in a controlled and dignified manner. Fred learned quickly that Snape made a point to weigh and calculate everything he said, and did. Their lovemaking was always passionate, but rarely spontaneous.

Fred gasped when his master's hand confidently gripped his growing hardness. It had taken most of his strength to keep his arousal in check as he'd helped bathe Harry's young agile body. The last thing he wanted was to scare or disorient Harry further. He and his master agreed that the best thing for Harry's transition was a friend, an ally, and to an extent – a protector. A keeper, even.

"Don't you want to talk about Harry, Master?" Fred asked huskily, entirely hoping the answer was no.

His master growled against his neck and thrust his hips into Fred's bare thigh. "I want to fuck you until you scream for me, and then we'll talk."

"Yes. Merlin, master. I've ached for you all day."

Snape gently stroked his slave through the short robes. "You've learned such pretty words to stroke my ego."

"They aren't pretty words." Fred's eyes were wide and honest. "I was hoping you'd come for me last night, but…"

"I was too distracted. I'm sorry." He brought his lips to Fred's mouth and pressed them gently to each corner.

"It doesn't matter. Just take me to bed."

By the time the two had stumbled down the hall and into the master bedroom, Fred had flung his robe off somewhere in the hallway along with one of his master's shoes and a black leather belt. Fred scrambled up onto the bed and opened his legs wide in eager invitation.

Severus shed the rest of his clothing and crawled up until his lips were pressed against the base of Fred's thick weeping cock. Fred tried to get a grip on the headboard as his master's mouth moved over him, and when he was finally swallowed just the way he liked, his eyes rolled back and he moaned long and low.

Severus sucked his slave eagerly, without any of the careful and meticulous skill Fred was used to. His master was acting more like Fred did after a particularly lonely weekend. When Severus was hobnobbing at some noble's house to keep up appearances Fred would wait like a lost puppy, alone in a house he couldn't leave with nothing to do but read, eat, sleep, and masturbate to fantasies of his master fucking him without trying so hard to be gentle. And then, when Severus would come home late Sunday night, Fred's desperation would be so intense that he'd fall to his knees at his master's feet and fumble for his master's cock until his mouth was latched on, his arms tight around his master's hips. And then, Fred would pull in and cling to his master, his life, his love. And he would moan when fingers gripped his hair too tight and he would keen like a parched man when the cock in his mouth would thrust and tremble and come.

Fred reached down and ran his fingers into his Snape's hair and held on until the pressure and heat was too much, and he came hard. Severus flopped down next to Fred and he rolled into his master's arms, burying his head under the crook of his arm where the strong sense of love and protection made him feel untouchable.

"Don't think I'm through with you." Severus smirked. "I still plan on fucking you."

Fred moaned and looked down at his master's still erect cock. He pressed their lips together and kissed deep, his tongue pressing in hotly. He wrapped his hand around the other man's cock and squeezed. Severus sighed deeply and pressed up into Fred's hand.

As soon as his master was so hard that his eyes were rolling back into his head, and he had minutes to last, Fred released him and crawled onto his hands and knees, his thighs spread open wide and his muscles taught and lean looking, aching to be fucked.

Severus quickly reached for the jar of lubricant he kept on the side table and Fred could hear him curse as he spread it over himself, before he reached forward and impaled his fingers in Fred, deep and probing - not gentle at all. Fred keened and pressed back urgently. His master's glorious wanton refrain from his usual careful attention was more erotic than anything Fred could imagine, and the sensation was making his vision black out. The lust was making his thoughts scramble, and his words turn into incoherent pleas of desire.

Severus pulled his fingers out and without hardly a moment's pause his thick cock was there instead, pushing in, ramming in hard and fast, thrusting eagerly. Fred screamed, as promised. His body was hot up to his ears and his freckled nose.

Severus fucked him longer than he thought he would last, and when he finally came with a growl and a cry, Fred felt his world tilt and twirl as he hit the bed. He took a few long breaths to force himself from passing out. He was always afraid that he would scare his master, and he certainly didn't want to discourage him from ever doing that to him again.

Fred rolled over as best he could in his present boneless state. "Master – Merlin Master, that was the most perfect, wonderful thing, ever!"

"Good. I'm not a terrible fuck then, am I?"

Fred propped himself up on one elbow and looked at him in the eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Now that you have that pretty Potter in your bedroom…"

"You're not jealous are you?" He sat up.

"No, not jealous. Just reminding you what I can offer."

Fred leaned down to kiss his master's smirking lips deeply. "You're daft, I love you too much. And besides, you love me too much for me to ever forget what you offer."

Severus smiled a little against Fred's lips but Fred couldn't pull away quick enough to see it. Smiles on his master were still rare, even now.

"But you know, I think – if it pleases my master, of course – that I might need to be reminded of what you offer more often." Fred moved to suck and bite his master's collarbone. "I love it when you're rough."

"I know." Snape whispered. "But I feel like I'm hurting you if I'm not too high on endorphins to care."

"You've never hurt me, master, not one time. And I know I can tell you if you are. But, really, that didn't hurt at all. That felt amazing – more than amazing." He kissed the reddening spot he'd created on his master's neck fondly. "Unless it really bothers you of course, I'd love it if you lost control more often."

Severus sat up and leaned against the head board. Fred crawled up and laid his head against his chest.

"I know you like it – harder, but I wish you'd have told me that it's something you _need_. I want to give you what you need."

"You always give me what I need. You're perfect."

"Well, apparently I'm missing something, or else you're keeping things from me. I wish you wouldn't do that."

Fred paused a moment before nodding in agreement.

"What else? What else do you need that you aren't telling me? I can tell your holding back."

Fred's shoulders must have been trembling from trying not to panic. Fred did want, _things_, had wanted them for a few years now. At this point he was beginning to think that he really did _need_ them. But they were things that his master would never give him, and he would rather live celibate than shake what he had with this man whose kindness, protection and love meant more to him than anything. He was terrified of going back to living trapped in this house with nothing but a tense and secretive house-mate for company.

Fred shook his head. "Don't ask me any questions master, please. Let's just go to sleep."

Snape sat up straighter and pushed against Fred's shoulders until he was forced to look into his eyes.

"Why won't you talk to me? Don't you trust me? Haven't I earned your trust?"

Fred looked frantic. "Please master, I trust you more than I can tell you, you saved me! I would be dead without you, I know it, and you know it too. Nobody wanted me and they would have just thrown me out." His master looked saddened at the memory.

"Of course I trust you. It's just, sometimes I think about how it would feel if you did - certain things to me. But they're things you would never do, and I don't want to ask them of you. I just can't." His eyes grew large and desperate. "I won't."

Severus stoked his hair and pulled him down to rest against his chest again, his fingers running soothingly along his scalp until Fred began to calm and breathe evenly.

"Fred? Remember when we first had sex."

"Of course I do."

"Well, don't you remember how it happened?"

He laughed. "Yeah, you moped around all week looking at me like you wanted to crawl under my robe and eat me before you finally ended both our misery and went for it. Fuck, I wanted you so bad."

"Well. I spent much more than a week thinking about how much I wanted you. How much I needed you. But I was convinced that it was wrong of me to want you when I was supposed to be protecting you. I was convinced that you would never want me back and that it would ruin what little comfortable friendship we'd formed if I told you how I felt."

"But I wanted you just as much, you know that."

"Yes you did, so how do you know that what you want isn't something that I'll want too unless you ask me?"

Fred looked sad. "You won't. I know you."

"Okay, maybe I won't, maybe I will. But I promise you that there isn't a single thing you could ask me that I'd love you an ounce less for."

"But what if you get angry at me?"

"Angry at you for needed something from me? Have I ever?"

"No. But what if something changes, what if we change because I asked?"

"So what?" He ran his fingers through Fred's hair affectionately. "Something changed when I finally asked you for sex, didn't it?"

Fred smiled wide. "Yes. But that was a good change."

"Doesn't this have the possibility for a good change? I can't imagine you asking for a bad change."

"It'll be a bad change when you say no, and are angry at me for having asked it of you."

Severus sighed. "Fred. I can't promise you that I'll say yes, but I promise that I'll consider it before I say no. And I also promise that I will love you just as much, if not more, for being brave and telling me what you need." He stroked Fred's hair and the back of his neck again until Fred relaxed and molded back into the curve of his arms. His master who had always seemed so menacing and cruel had transformed into a man who, while shy and distant when he was at leisure to be, had more affection to give than Fred could have imagined. He silently believed that the lonely man had been storing it up, waiting for someone who he could bestow it on. Fred smiled, and kissed his master's chest. One thing he prided himself on and thanked his luck for was that somehow, he had accidentally fallen into this man's arms and been accepted as the lover he'd been waiting for.

Fred sighed deeply. The momentary peace the quiet had brought was enough to give him the strength to start talking. "It's just that, now that Harry is here I feel so confused."

"Why does having Harry here confuse you?"

"Because he's so scared. Of being punished."

Severus narrowed his eyes and Fred lowered his. His master was so quick that Fred doubted that he would need to elaborate much before being understood.

"You're not scared of being punished?"

"I- I don't know, master. I've never been punished before. At least, not in the same way as Harry was." He looked up at his master's still narrowed eyes. "I know that I'm scared of you being mad at me, or displeased with me. But, sometimes - sometimes I wonder what it would feel like." He stared hard at his master's expression, waiting for recognition, but he revealed nothing but guarded thoughtfulness. It didn't unnerve Fred, but it did worry him. That was the look his master gave his potions when he knew he'd done something wrong.

"You've wondered what it would feel like if I were to punish you?"

Fred nodded. "Sometimes I can't stop thinking about it. When I'm anxious or nervous or stir crazy, or just mad at the world, I think about misbehaving on purpose. I think about doing something really awful just to see if you get mad enough to hit me or something – whip me."

Snape flinched, but now that he'd started Fred couldn't stop. "And I think how it might feel good. It might make everything go away, for a while. And I think about how you'd take care of me, and I think about how much I love obeying you, and trusting you… and I just, wonder."

Fred let his eyes drop and waited to be yelled at. His master hated it when other masters hit their slaves, so why would he ever agree to this?

"I wasn't expecting you to ask me, that."

"I know."

He paused for a long time. "I promised you that I'd think about it, but, I just don't know how I could ever agree to this."

Fred nodded and hid his face under his master's neck. "Then don't, I don't care. I just don't want you to hate me."

Snape sighed. "You know I don't hate you. I'll never hate you." He was quiet for a moment. "I promised you I'd think about it, so I will."

"Thank you, master."

* * *

><p>Fred returned to his room, just as he promised, late that same night. Harry had lain awake most of the time with his hands gripping the sheets as he struggled with his desire to submit to the comfort and false security he was feeling. It might be dangerous to fall asleep without Fred, whom he trusted to watch over him. For Harry, it was nearly impossible to dismiss the practiced alertness that he'd learned while living at Malfoy Manor.<p>

It must have been after one o'clock when Fred slipped in through the door. Harry cracked one eye just enough to see. Fred glanced at Harry for a moment and then, deciding he was asleep he pulled his robe off over his head and walked toward the bathroom next to Harry's bed.

When Fred passed through a beam of moonlight that came through the window Harry spotted the glistening sheen of lubricant and sex on Fred's well spent cock. He stilled and his breath hitched. He had never gotten over watching his fellow slaves return from their master, fucked and raw. Their eyes were always tired, glassed over and defeated, and their bodies exhausted. Harry supposed he looked the same way after, but he learned early to just call the feeling submission. As if it was as natural and healthy to a slave as breathing.

However, Fred didn't look like any of those things. Fred just looked contented. He looked at peace, and sublimely satisfied. As he flicked on the dim light over the sink of the bathroom, he stretched his arms over his head and purred like a stroked cat.

Harry couldn't understand it, even if Fred had adapted to his life as a slave, even if he was comfortable, well treated, favored - pampered even. How could he ever be happy? How could the physical manifestation of his enslavement bring him joy? How could being fucked relax him? How could being ordered into service bring about contentment? Harry puzzled over this while Fred showered, dried off quickly, brushed his teeth and then turned and came back into the room.

Harry watched him return with open eyes. Fred flicked off the light switch and then smiled at Harry.

"I'm sorry I woke you."

Harry's eyes narrowed at Fred's broad smile. "Why are you happy?"

Fred's unconscious grin faltered. "What do you mean?"

"The master fucked you?" Harry knew he sounded accusatory, but he didn't care. He was ashamed of Fred. Even obedient slaves, even perfect slaves like George, didn't come back from a fucking with a smile on their faces.

Fred stared at Harry for a long moment, something in his eyes burning under the surface, and Harry knew that he'd crossed a line with his tone.

"Yes. I was with my master."

"Then how can you be happy?" His voice cracked as he whispered it. He just didn't understand.

The older boy's defensive posture relaxed as he sat down on the edge of Harry's bed, naked, but uncaring.

"Slavery isn't the same for me," he said slowly, carefully, "as it was for you, Harry."

"How isn't it the same? We're both slaves, we both obey a master."

"Yes, but, you learned to obey a cruel, hateful master. And I learned to obey - a different kind of master. I'm sorry this happened to us. It shouldn't have happened, we should be free, and we should be living the lives we planned to live after the war, with the people we love." Fred looked enormously pained at his last words. "But we can only do the best to live our lives as it comes. You were handed a cruel fate Harry. It was brutally unfair payment for all you'd suffered already. But I got lucky, and I found that what should have been hell wasn't so bad after all. I know it doesn't make sense to you, but it is possible to be happy again Harry." He squeezed Harry's knee affectionately. "I'm happy. Hopefully it's time for you to start finding happiness too."

* * *

><p>Fred awoke early the next morning to the sound of the door creaking open. He glanced at the window and knew from the bluish light that it couldn't be later than 6:30. Gabbie must be coming in to get the laundry. Fred rolled over with a disgruntled huff. It was much, much too early.<p>

"Fred. Wake up." Fred cracked an eye open and smiled at the unlikely sight of his master, dressed in his best black robe. Snape was certainly not a morning person either. When Fred was allowed to move in on his master's much needed rest for the night, they both woke up well after 9:00 on weekends like this, and even then they had a good hour of fucking before breakfast.

"You're awake!" He whispered. His master chuckled and then motioned to the bed. Fred happily scooted over to make room. They had never laid here together before. They would always go to the master's big bed to be together. But, this tight space was surprisingly nice, especially in the crisp morning cold.

"Did you miss me or something?" Fred asked.

"Something like that."

Fred looked over at Harry who was still sleeping peacefully. The poor boy was obviously exhausted.

"I shouldn't be here when he wakes up. I think it's better if I don't do anything out of the ordinary for a while."

Fred grinned. "Yeah, the fact that you don't want to hit him confuses him enough. We don't want him to know that you enjoy a good cuddle."

"I don't cuddle." Snape snapped. "And if you suggest otherwise, I may have to consider last night's request more seriously and redden that ass of yours for defiance."

"Of course, master." He said, his pulse beating a little at the thought.

"I'm here to tell you that I have to go to a meeting today. I just found out. I won't be back until this evening."

"Yes, master."

"Try to ease Harry into life here. Try to make him somewhat comfortable."

"I'll certainly give it a go. Although, I think it will take a long time. I can only imagine the defenses that he's built up."

"You're right of course. I also plan to see him alone tonight."

Fred looked at him startled. "But I thought…"

"No, not that. He's nowhere near ready for that. I just want him to get used to me. I thought it might be a good idea, when possible, for me to spend the evenings with you two together. Eating, reading, talking, something like that. And then I thought that he and I can spend an hour or so together, alone."

Fred nodded soundlessly.

"You don't mind?"

"Of course not, master. It's a wonderful idea. Being alone with you is my favorite thing to do." He shrugged. "How do you think I fell in love with you?"

"You are jealous."

"Not so much. He needs you too. And I know that you have feelings for him. You've always been honest with me about that."

Snape firmly lifted Fred's jaw until they were looking eye to eye. "You must know, you must understand Fred that what I feel for you is intense and true. I do harbor an old curiosity, but it may not amount to anything."

"And if it does?"

"It won't make a difference to what I feel for you. I will always want you. I will always love you."

"I'm not selfish. I don't want to be the only thing you need." Fred ran his fingers through his master's hair. "I love you, and I only want a small piece of your heart if you're willing to give it."

Snape smiled. "You don't have to worry about your place here, with me. I love you too much to let you go."

Fred nodded as the sun began to stream in brightly through the window and onto his face. And during the several moments of sunrise the two warm bodies in Fred's bed quietly reminded each other of their love with kisses and touches and moans.

* * *

><p>Harry woke up to the smell of something lovely, something that he's dreamed about recently.<p>

He opened his eyes to the sight of a small house elf with very long ears and an old white doily on top of her head. It looked like she'd tried to tie a bit of newspaper into a bow and sew it to her hat. She was bouncing up on her toes to try and get a better look at the newcomer while holding a tray of bacon, eggs and oatmeal with something sweet smelling melting on top - molasses and sugar, perhaps. Harry sat up. Fred was standing behind her with folded arms and a grin.

"I must say Harry, that I have never had two meals in bed, in a row, without being sick or something. You are a very luck boy."

"I don't need all of this, really." Harry protested. "The master will think I'm spoiled. He'll think I'm too much trouble."

"No, he won't think anything at all because he ordered that you stay in bed and eat a good breakfast. He's at a meeting today, but he told me to take you for a walk after breakfast. And I thought that I could show you around the house." He took the tray from the joyful little elf and placed it on Harry's lap. Gabbie took the linen napkin, shook it out and laid it over Harry's lap with a happy squeak, then disappeared.

Honestly, Harry was still so satisfied from last night's meal that he could have easily gone the whole day. Maybe this was a dream. Maybe he would pinch himself and wake-up again on his mattress next to George and Lavender, with the knowledge that he had another painfully hungry day ahead. This could not possibly be a reality.

"Eat up. Master said you need to fill up as much as possible. You're too skinny." Fred poked him playfully in the ribs then picked up three vials from the corner of the tray. Harry had missed from behind the cup of…

"Tea!" He exclaimed.

"It's Sunday morning. Remember, we get tea with as much cream and sugar as we like today." Fred reached over and ruffled his hair a little. "And it's so good to see you smile about something that maybe you'll get it more often." He set the bottles down in front of Harry. "The master wants you to take these. They're for your health. I think he's worried about you."

Harry looked at them cautiously.

"They're not poison, I promise."

Harry was unconvinced.

"Harry, honestly. The master doesn't want to poison you, he wants you healthy. I know you don't like him, and that you don't trust him. But, you are going to have to take the potions. It's an order."

"I wouldn't presume to dislike, or distrust my master." Harry said automatically.

Fred nodded. "Well good, then you will take the potions without fuss." He popped the corks off and lined them up in a row to be taken. Fred suddenly reminded Harry of his mother, Mrs. Weasley. Harry had hardly had time or occasion to think of her in years.

Without thinking any more about it, Harry swallowed all three potions in quick succession, and was pleased to find that only one tasted foul. He took a glorious first sip of his sweet hot tea and immediately felt as relaxed and settled as he could ever remember feeling. Whether it was the tea or the potions, he didn't know.

Harry finished eating and then showered again. He dressed and had a simple hair cut from Fred – "your hair may be messy naturally, Harry, but there is no reason for it to be this bad. The master wouldn't stand for it."

Then, feeling delightfully fresh and at ease, Harry followed Fred down the long cherry wood staircase, through the entryway, and into a comfortable looking sitting room. There were a few plush chairs and a large sofa with fabric that seemed well worn-in. Perhaps this is where the master entertained his guests. Although, that seemed unlikely to Harry. Lucius Malfoy only entertained in stuffy state rooms. Harry doubted that he even had a room that could be described as comfortable.

"This is where the master and I sit some nights." Harry looked up at Fred wide eyed. "He said that he would try to sit with us together for a little while every night, at least while you're settling in."

Harry took in the shelves full of colorful books, novels maybe, a wireless sitting on a ledge against the wall, and even a small table with a deck of cards left abandoned, mid-game. It was like the cozy living room at the Burrow!

"What does the master do with us here?"

Fred looked confused. "Well I don't know. We can talk, or read, or listen to some music maybe?"

"We?"

"Yes, of course."

Harry just nodded and followed Fred through a few more rooms. A casual dining room, where Fred claimed that the master often ate with him! This, Harry thought, must be an outright lie just to impress him. The master might give his slaves strange luxuries like food in bed when they were sick, or whatever. But the thought of him eating his meals at the same table as them was more than improbable.

Fred then showed him the formal dining area, which was much more familiar to Harry. Here the master would entertain government officials and important guests. Next to the head chair was a silk pillow. Harry smirked. Apparently Fred was also allowed to kneel on a cushion by his master's side. It might make the slave look like a lap dog on a bed, but Harry wouldn't mind sparing his knees the discomfort during the long six or seven course meals.

There was also a formal parlor, a kitchen, several down-stairs guest bedroom, a library, and finally a sunroom that led into the backyard through tall French doors.

"Want to go for a walk?"

"Outside?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yeah! Sometimes I go flying, but -"

"Flying?" Harry asked, with a wild flutter in his chest. "The master lets you... but how do you do it? We can't do magic."

Fred looked at Harry sideways for a minute before answering. "Oh, you mean that we're not allowed to do magic. We don't need our wands to fly. Remember?"

Harry held his breath as he observed Fred's calm confidence. "Didn't your master give you the potion?" Fred looked confused and shook his head slowly.

"Why didn't he give you the potion?" Harry asked again.

"What potion?"

"The potion that -" Harry tried to calm his nerves before he said it. He had never talked about this particular experience with anyone before, not even George and Lavender after it had happened. They'd just waited out the sickness together. Harry and George had each taken turns holding back Lavender's long blonde hair. Harry didn't remember that first week of slavery too well, but he was pretty sure that he had blacked out through most of it. "The potion that erases our magic," he said finally.

Fred shook his head. "What are you talking about Harry?"

"Our master gave us a potion the first week. He said it was mandatory to remove our magic. We've been squibs for five years. He told us that all of the slaves are, because we're not allowed to be wizards anymore. We're not even people. Not really."

Fred's eyes were definitely wet when Harry looked up at him. "Oh Harry. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay."

"No. Harry, I'm sorry that he made you think this way." Fred wrapped Harry in a hug, but he pulled away sharply, afraid that his master might see them. He would never want Fred to be punished on his account.

"There isn't a potion like that Harry. There isn't a potion that you can take that erases your magic."

Harry blinked at him. "Yes there is."

"No, sweetheart. There isn't. Who would Lucius have gotten a potion like that from?"

Harry though for a second before answering. "Our master, of course."

"Harry. I help him with potions all the time. I know practically every potion there is. And besides, he would have told me if something that terrible had happened to George."

It was the first time Fred had acknowledged his brother and it made both of them pause. Fred was crying a little harder now. "Harry, I think he was just trying to make you feel powerless. You know?"

Harry shook his head. "No. _You_ don't know."

"Harry, listen to me -"

Harry backed up until the backs of his knees hit a wooden table in the entryway. "You don't know anything. You've never been anything but the master's pet. You think he tells you everything but he doesn't. We're nothing but slaves. We don't have magic, we don't have anything anymore." Harry could feel his voice escalate, but he didn't care if he screamed. All of this was so disorienting that it might be a welcome relief if Fred told the master about Harry's disobedience. It might be a relief to be whipped. Harry desperately needed his understanding of rules and the basic laws of existence to be cemented and a whipping would at least allow him the opportunity to relax back into his role as a slave.

Harry refused to listen to the nonsense that Fred was dishing out from what was obviously too many years of pampered favoritism. "You think you know everything, but you don't. You're just his slave, Fred. He can lie to you all he wants. You never even leave this house, just like the rest of us." He was screaming now. "What do you know?"

Fred reached out for him as he stood and sobbed and shook with the power of Harry's outburst. Harry pushed against Fred's arms and when they didn't release he rammed his fist into the other man's side. As soon as Fred relented and let Harry go, he ran as fast as he could up the stairs and into their bathroom where he curled up behind the shower curtain, not caring that his lovely new robe was getting soaked from the morning residue. The tight space reminded Harry a little bit of a closet his old master would lock them in sometimes. They let him think it was a good punishment. But secretly Harry suspected that they all relished the opportunity to be alone, quiet, silent. Free to move without being watched. Free to rest and think without the pressures of their master's scrutiny. Even if he was in there for most of the day he preferred it to being with his master. Even the hunger pains didn't dampen the simple pleasure of solitude.

Harry cried himself out before slowly drifting off, comforted by the fact that he had at least a few hours before his master would come home and beat him.

* * *

><p><strong><em>You can expect another update no later than early next week. <em>**

**_REVIEWS are highly beneficial to a writer's productivity, and are always appreciated. Thanks!  
><em>**


	3. Chapter 3

**Story information, warnings and disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**

**A/N: **If you hadn't already noticed, I just wanted to let you know that in my creation of this story I am discounting the majority of the events in the 7th novel - Deathly Hallows.**  
><strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

When Harry awoke it was to the sound of the shower curtain being slowly pulled across the squeaky metal bar. He looked up through foggy tear crusted eyes at his new master's dark figure standing still above him. Harry's heart beat faster in alarm before he quieted himself and calmly climbed out of the tub, pulled his damp robe off, and knelt with his head to the floor in the most subservient pose he knew as he waited for his punishment to begin.

There was nerve racking stillness for a few minutes before Harry's master finally moved to sit on the edge of a little wooden chair by the door where the house-elves would leave their clean towels and robes - according to Fred.

"I spoke to Fred about what happened." His master said. Harry tried to stay as still and calm as possible so as to not look as though he were afraid, or resisting his punishment.

"I would like to talk to you about it. There are many things that I can help you understand."

"Yes master."

He reached down and put his hand on Harry's bare shoulder. "Come with me. We can talk in my office."

Harry rose as gracefully as he could, head bowed, and followed his master through the slave's bedroom and into the hall. As he turned through the door frame his knee gave out weakly and he stumbled, but before Harry had time to hit the ground in apology his Master put his strong arm around his waist and held him up. He couldn't help but to look at the other man in shock, just to find his gaze firm yet kind, and calm. There was none of the explosive pent up anger that he was expecting.

At the top of the stairs they stopped. Fred must have been waiting at the foot of the long staircase, because his master said, "Fred, have the house elves put together a tray of warm water and cloths. A clean robe and… some tea, I think." He mindlessly ran his fingers through Harry's hair and he almost purred in response.

"Yes master," Fred replied. A touch of real concern in his voice.

They walked to a small office with a dark wood desk and furnishings upholstered in hunter green. "You can sit on the couch or you can kneel. It's your choice. I will be happy with you either way," Snape said.

"I'll kneel, master." Harry couldn't fathom the idea of sitting on his master's furniture like an equal. Like a guest. Harry tried to sink to his knees, eyes down, but his master held him up until he could reach for a couch cushion to put under Harry's knees.

Harry settled himself in one fluid movement and folded his hands in his lap, just far enough down his thighs as to not cover his genitalia from view, as his old master had taught him.

"I'm going to finish a letter I'm writing while the house elves bring me your things. I want you to try and relax. I'm not going to be punishing you for anything that happened, so you can stop worrying."

Harry shifted a little in response to this unexpected news. His fundamental understanding of a master-slave relationship was rebelling against the idea that he wouldn't be punished for what was surely an example of supreme defiance and agitated freewill. Harry didn't want to trust in the safety of his Master's words – but, it wasn't Harry's place to question his intentions, so he relaxed and tried to think of nothing at all as he waited.

Finally, after Harry had patiently and obediently listened to his new master's scratchy pen strokes the house elves popped into the room and Harry could hear them setting the trays out on the coffee table next to him. When they had left his master set his pen down and then pulled a low chair out from the other side of his desk, and sat on it in front of Harry.

"Look up at me" he said. And Harry did, glad to be able to look into his master's eyes again and try to judge his emotions. If he could look at his face he might be able to infer whether or not he was sincere in his promise to not punish Harry. But, all Harry found was the same calm and gentle expression. He tried not to remember much from his life before but he was sure that this man had never looked quite like this when near to Harry, nor any student. Surely something had happened to him to gentle his always snappish nerves. Perhaps the final victory for his side was relief enough.

As Harry watched him he dipped the cloths into the glass bowl of softly steaming water and began to wash Harry's face. His crusty cheeks first, then his swollen lips and nose. The sweat from his forehead and below his ears and finally he pressed the hot cloth to Harry's closed eye lids and wiped off all the tear stains, sometimes lingering for a long time with the heat pressed against his eyes as if to soothe away the very need to cry at all. At the end of it Harry found himself leaning in embarrassingly close to his master, and whimpering breathy sighs of delight.

After the hot cloths his master poured them each a cup of tea and Harry watched in wonder as thick cream and sugar was mixed in to both. His master unfolded the new tunic and slipped it over Harry's arms which he raised obediently. Harry suspected that his master was more uncomfortable with his nudity than he was. He hardly remembered that clothes were an option for him.

"Come sit on the couch with me. You may drink your tea before we talk." He stood and then helped Harry to his still wobbly feet. His master sat first and then pulled Harry in to sit next to him in the secure circle of his arm. Lucius used to do this to his slaves, Harry remembered as he was handed his tea, which he took perhaps too eagerly. However, Lucius made the gesture frightening and intimidating. The arm around their shoulders always held his wand in its grasp, the deadly devise which was too often the source of their punishment dangling down comically at their side, ready to turn on them. This however, felt nothing like that at all.

Harry's master handed him his cup of tea and placed two chocolate biscuits in his lap. Harry smiled sweetly, but felt too exhausted to be surprised by the unexpected treat. The kindness he was receiving here still worried him, but if there was nothing he could do, he might as well enjoy it while he waited for the fallout.

"Fred told me what happened, but I want to hear from you as well." He asked calmly, his voice lovely and low and huskier than he remembered. He had only caught a few momentary slips of the sharp bite that he remembered from his potion master's legendary tone. However, in these quiet moments he had a hard time remembering what it was about Snape that made him so nervous, and – hostile as a student.

And yet, it really didn't matter now. As a slave Harry didn't have the luxury to hold grudges against free people, especially masters. Whatever it was that he had hated about Snape before didn't need to concern him now. This thought relaxed him a bit and he sunk further into his master's embrace.

Snape tensed beside him when Harry pressed up against his side more fully, but soon relaxed again and began casually flicking locks of Harry's hair with the ends of his fingers. Harry grinned and wished he was bold enough to lean back into the caress. Lavender would have done it, George too if he thought it would keep Lucius occupied. Harry remembered Lavender's singular skill for seductively begging for attention like a needy cat. It always seemed to please his former master. And yet, if Harry appeared to be too demanding he always got hit, hard.

"Are you ready to talk about it?" Snape asked finally.

"Yes master," Harry said. He set his tea down on his knees so that it didn't fall if his hands shook. "Fred tried to tell me that the potion..." he thought for a minute about what to call his old master when Severus provided - "Lucius?"

"Yes master. We all took the potion to remove our magic and Fred told me that it never happened." He looked up at the other man's face, but his expression was just as neutral as before. "I'm sorry I yelled at Fred, Master, but -"

"You think that because I treat him better than you were treated that he doesn't understand?"

Harry lowered his eyes. "If it pleases you Master, yes."

Severus sighed before quietly responding. "I think you might be right about that, Harry. Fred doesn't know what it's like to be a slave, not in the way you understand it. But, that's not his fault. He does everything I ask of him, and more."

"I'm sorry master. If you think... If you think that I'm too hurt to be punished or something, it's okay. I can take it, I deserve it."

"Harry, it's good that you're brave. But I don't think you did anything to be punished for."

Harry let out a shallow sigh of relief mixed with frustration. If this didn't qualify as misbehavior, Harry wasn't sure what did. He had never been this disobedient for his old master, not in years. Anyway, he almost wished that he would be punished, if for no other reason than because it would solidify for him what his boundaries are.

"It's my responsibility to decide if and when my slaves need punishment. And I want to tell you about how I do that. Because it's going to be different from what you're used to.

Harry nodded.

"First of all, I don't use corporal punishment."

Harry looked up at him startled.

"You can ask Fred, I never have and I don't intend to. If you do something that you need punishment for, I will tell you what the consequences are and you will have time to process it before anything happens. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master." Harry said, dumbfound. As he looked into his Master's face he suddenly noticed that the other man had really very nice eyes. Dark and warm, like coffee.

"Now. I need to show you something." He took the tea cup and one uneaten cookie from Harry's lap and placed them on the coffee table, then helped Harry to stand up.

"Go ahead and kneel on the pillow. It'll be easier."

When Harry was settled Snape disappeared behind him and Harry could hear a drawer being opened, from which something was removed. Harry remained facing forward and in good form, even though he was itching to turn around and look.

"I have to tell you Harry that this is something that I've never done for Fred, even though I think that it would make him very happy. It is very dangerous for me to allow you this opportunity because I can never give it to you again. I hope..." He cleared his voice. "It would damn me if anyone found out that I had this. And if anyone found out how I feel about - the state of things. But, I do hope Harry that there will be a day when I can give this back to you and you will be able to keep it."

Harry was now stiff as a board and it was taking all of his training not to whip around and look. His abilities as a slave were on display and self-control was one of the best qualities. Or at least it was before this morning.

He heard his master walk slowly around him until he could finally see him without turning his head. He held his own wand by his right side, but in his other hand was - Harry's breath stopped. Another wand. _Harry's _wand. He hadn't seen it in years, not since all of their wands had been confiscated on the day of the abduction.

"I hope that you are wise enough to not do anything dangerous, or stupid. But, I want you to feel that your magic hasn't gone anywhere."

He turned the wand around in this hand and held it out to him, handle forward.

Harry just stared at it. His master waited patiently while Harry tried to pull himself together. He was feeling more and more out of body with each second. Finally he convinced his arm to reach forward and take it.

"Easy." he said when Harry's shakes made him almost drop it. As soon as his fingers were wrapped around the wand – holly, 11 inches - his whole arm began to tingle in that warm bright-light kind of way that he'd taken for granted for so long. After a while his body was singing and it was making his vision black out slightly. It was much more intense than anything he could remember feeling, not since he'd bought it that first day in Ollivanders.

"Can you feel it?" Snape asked.

"Yes, master."

"You may try one spell. Something easy and safe. It's been a long time and it might not react normally."

Harry looked down at it through his burning eyes before he finally decided. It was a spell Hermione had taught him that he'd always loved. He fondly remembered her using it on the green glass goblets in the great hall when she was bored of listening to him and Ron talk about quidditch. He looked around for a similar sized object.

He spotted the empty tea cup on the coffee table and pointed his wand at it. "Flosmatos" he said as evenly as possible. Slowly the white china curled out smoothly until a white rose figurine sat, quivering slightly on the saucer.

At some point between the end of the spell, his wand hitting the floor, and his body hitting the ground, Harry's master caught him and held him tightly in his arms while Harry cried heavy breathless tears into his master's shoulder.

* * *

><p>When Harry woke up some time later with his head resting on his master's warm thigh he was more than tempted to not move, to stay still like this and savor the completely foreign sensation of touching and being touched by someone - a master even, who he wasn't terrified of. And who, although it surprised him, who he didn't hate.<p>

Apparently Snape had sat on the floor with Harry while he'd cried and slept because they hadn't really moved from their spot. Harry's thigh was still resting on the plump couch cushion.

Harry opened his eyes and stirred a little. It was dark outside and the candles were all lit. "Master?"

"Yes?" Snape's voice was extra low and raspy as if it were he who had cried.

Harry looked up at the other man, wearily hoping that he might take him in his arms again. However, he just placed his hand on Harry's thigh and kept it there.

"I'm sure you have questions," Snape said.

"Yes. May I know… May I ask where my wand is?"

"I have a very secure place where I keep things that I don't want found. I sent your wand back there. I'm afraid that I won't be able to let you see it again. Maybe someday. But, it is much too dangerous now. I know that it's hard to hear, but you are going to have to trust me on this."

"Yes, master." Harry was pretty sure that in the morning it would hit him, but right now he didn't want to think about it. Except...

"Master! My magic isn't gone!" He blurted out.

"No. Of course it isn't. Are you just now realizing that?"

"And George and Lavender?"

"Them neither."

"I'm sorry, master, but I don't understand. I –" Harry almost began explaining that he'd tried to tap back into his magic countless times during those first few months but was never able to access it. But, such behavior was more than dangerous to admit to any master, kind or otherwise.

Snape reached over and stroked the tattooed number on his left collarbone, just like Lucius had done the day before. However, this time the contact made Harry's skin tingle pleasantly.

"Are you familiar with what this mark does?"

"Yes, master. It registers us to our masters and contains a tracking spell, so we don't run away," Harry said.

Snape nodded. "Yes, you are partially correct. But there is more to it. Did Lucius never tell you anything more?" Harry shook his head, no.

"Well, the idea was initially to do only what you just described, however as it was being developed it became increasingly complex." Harry listened intently. "The tattoo is in many ways designed after the mark that Voldemort gave his Death Eaters. However, the master of the number can be transferred if the slave is traded or sold, whereas no one but Lord Voldemort could manipulate the dark mark. Centuries ago these tattoos were created so that a master could interweave spells that prevent other wizards from hurting his slaves or trying to steal them." Snape touched it again, his eyes dark. "Protection was the intent, but I fear the mark's potential made it all too easy to incorporate spells that are, for lack of a better word - invasive, and controlling. Even more so because these specific tattoos are fundamentally designed so that he who wears the mark is the only one who cannot alter or remove the spells attached to it."

Harry didn't know this, and yet it hardly surprised him. He was a slave and was at the complete mercy of his master. Learning that there was just one more thing that his master had control of didn't necessarily bother him. He had learned to be comfortable in the knowledge that he must release himself completely, including any ideas of free-will.

"The spells used in our variant of the mark are designed to let the slave bureau monitor you," Snape continued. "The first shows a very precise tracking location, so that a runaway or misplaced slave can be quickly found. The second allows the bureau to monitor a slave's magical levels. Any unusually high level of magical energy creates an alert to the bureau. This is to protect against a slave stealing their master's wand."

Harry's eyes grew wider. "Did that happen when I used my wand? Did they contact you, master?"

"Yes, they floo called me while you slept. I told them you had an emotional outburst and broke a window." He smirked. "The woman at the bureau today is quite dim. And also, I believe, quite a fan of yours. She fell for it without too much explanation." Harry smiled, imagining his master lying to protect him. He wished he'd been awake to hear it.

"Those are the only two mandatory spells. However, I have had suspicions that Lucius and several others who are close to him have added one or two spells, dark spells, to their slave's marks."

Harry unconsciously touched his shoulder. He hadn't really thought that much about the tattoo. He rarely looked into mirrors.

"First of all, I do assure you Harry that there is no potion in existence that can erase a witch or wizard's magic. The idea is quite impossible actually. Even after death your magic remains an integral part of your soul and body and it is impossible for another to strip you of it. However, there are some very dark ways in which you can tamper with and suppress one's magic. In fact, I think I can predict what Lucius subjected on you and your fellow slaves."

"Without your wand it is difficult for many witches and wizards to preform magic, especially complicated magic. Even Dumbledore would have admitted to finding that task difficult at best. However, if there were any of the slaves who might have been powerful enough to teach themselves, it would be you, Harry."

"There is an ancient dark spell that was used on prisoners. Essentially it suppresses a wizard's natural magic with a powerful burrier. However, it is only effective with a mark like this one," he said, pointing to Harry's shoulder. "Many have tried to make similar jinx spells for dueling, but the effect is quickly rejected by the recipient's magical defenses. These tattoos work as a powerful glue, for lack of a better word." He looked at Harry intently. "I suspect that this is what Lucius did, and then he gave you a potion and a lie to make you feel as helpless as possible. When you were transferred to me the spell was automatically eliminated as it was connected to your former master. I don't think Lucius remembered that little detail."

Harry thought about all of this new information for a long time, while staring at his hands where his wand had been just a few hours before. It was true. He could feel a faint buzzing deep inside unlike anything he'd felt in a long time. It was nothing like the power his wand had provided, but it was comforting none the less. He sincerely doubted that he could tap into his magic in the way his master suspected, but it was something he needed to test, alone.

"Thank you, master. For telling me," Harry said.

"Yes, of course. I would have had this conversation with you yesterday if I had suspected. I know Lucius was a cruel master, but I sometimes forget how vindictive he can be." Harry smirked, but hoped his master didn't notice. Snape didn't seem to be particularly fond of Malfoy, but that didn't mean he would tolerate a slave's negative opinion of the minister.

"I must tell you Harry," his master said quietly. "That I am pleasantly surprised to find that you are still a very brave man, despite it all."

Harry smiled the first genuine, un-self-conscious smile he'd allowed himself in front of his new master. Even if he didn't believe himself to be brave, the praise gave him pleasant chills. Lucius had never praised Harry for anything that could be considered a virtue, except obedience. Bravery, however, used to be something Harry valued.

A long moment passed in which Harry thought his master was contemplating touching him, judging by the way his hand clenched and unclenched on his thigh. He wouldn't have minded, not really. He wondered if his master's touch might tingle like it had when he'd stroked the number on his shoulder.

Finally, Snape stood and gave Harry his hand. "Let's go find Fred. I think he deserves an apology. You scared him." Harry nodded in agreement, and stood. On their way out Snape gently picked up the white porcelain flower and pressed it into Harry's hand. "A memento, of sorts."

Harry clutched it tight. He was glad he'd chosen a transfiguration spell. Now he could keep the little trinket with him for as long as he was allowed.

They left the study and soon Harry found himself in the cozy little sitting room that Fred had shown him that morning. There was a fire in the hearth and Fred was curled up cozily on one of the couches with what looked like a quidditch magazine in his lap.

"Hey!" He said cheerfully to both of them.

Harry stepped away from his master and went to kneel in front of Fred. He wasn't sure if it was good form to kneel to another slave, but Fred was the master's favorite, and besides, Harry wasn't prepared to think of another way to properly deliver an apology.

"Forgive me, Fred, for yelling at you, for thinking that you were lying to me, and for scaring you." Harry thought for a minute. "And for hitting you."

"It's okay, Harry. I understand. And you don't have to kneel like that."

"Let him do it if he wants," Snape said from across the room. "It makes things easier for him, I think."

He was right, Harry thought.

Harry stood and looked down at Fred's magazine, then looked at his master who understood that he wanted permission to speak, and gave it with a nod.

"Fred? Are we really allowed to fly?"

"Yeah!" He said with a laugh. "We are. Tell him master."

Harry was startled by the command in Fred's voice but he ignored it.

"I don't see a problem with it. Fred will make sure that you're careful. I can have the elves get you a robe and a broom sometime this week."

Harry smiled brightly. "Thank you, master."

Snape nodded. If he couldn't give him his wand back, he could certainly give him something to remind him that he was still a wizard. Quidditch was one of the few things that Fred relied on to keep himself connected to his magical core without spiking the tracking spell. Also, because Snape had chosen to buy property with a smaller house but acres and acres of property, Fred was able to move about the grounds freely on broom without overreaching the property line he was confined to.

"Harry, go take a shower and wait in your room for Fred to come get you for dinner. I need to speak with Fred alone." Snape said.

"Yes master." Harry looked between them calculatingly as he hurried away. No wonder Lucius got so frustrated with him. He was naturally curious and despite his efforts lacked the ability to suppress his instinctual responses. It had served him well, to a degree, in the war. But as a slave – especially Lucius's slaves, he was hopeless.

It had been quite obvious to him, even as a spectator over the years at Lucius's many house parties. Fred's brother George, who had earned Lucius's undivided favor was more difficult to read than a marble statue. His emotions were expertly suppressed deep within. So deep, in fact, that Severus wondered if he would even be able to reach the boy's private thoughts through occlumency. Instead, George had become a great actor who could be anything Lucius asked of him at a drop of a pin. These details he chose to protect Fred from, to a degree. Although, he suspected that Fred understood that his brother's adjustment had been dangerously self-destructive.

If George was anything like his brother, which Snape didn't doubt, it would require a complete suppression of self to survive Lucius so successfully. He just hoped that someday he might be able to safely reunite the two brothers. However, the likelihood of overpowering Lucius strong-hold on the ministry was beginning to seem less and less probable.

"You're leaving again?" Fred asked.

"Yes, I must. I received a letter from Avery this morning. He's assembled the entire committee."

Fred's eyes grew dark. His hatred for Avery was understandable, but was still a point of discrepancy between them. Avery's behavior towards his slaves wasn't ideal, and some of his ideas were backward. But Snape understood better than Fred ever could that his power and influence was unparalleled in many areas, and his genuine and persistent interest in taking down Lucius and reforming the ministry was indispensable.

"But, why?" Fred demanded. "I thought you weren't scheduled to meet until next month."

"I suspect they heard about Harry."

Fred closed his book. "What about Harry?"

"Don't be naïve Fred, Harry's influence is unparalleled. That cannot be debated. I anticipated their interest in him all along, and I am prepared to approach it. I intend to act in the best interest of all involved."

"But, Harry's not well! You've seen him. He's not himself, to say the least," Fred said.

"I know that."

"Then are you going to tell them to back off?"

"Fred, it's complicated."

"No, it's not. Harry isn't a chess piece!"

Snape's eyes narrowed at Fred's tone. "Fred -"

"I know what goes on. I know what you all talk about. Even if I'm too much of slave to be included in your scheming."

"Scheming?" He snapped.

"Whatever! I just can't stand that Harry only gets a single night of peace before the hounds surround him again. It just isn't right, it isn't fucking – "

"Fred!" Snape growled in his most dangerous tone. The other boy jolted. "You are skimming dangerous ground. Do not take advantage of the liberties I give you."

Fred just stood, breathing hard. His eyes still narrowed in defiance. "Hit me, then."

"No, I will not. And don't you dare try to play me when my temper is high," Snape said. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Fred snapped.

"You forget your place, Fred." Snape growled.

Fred clenched his fists before spitting out a clipped -"Yes. Master."

"I don't have to tell you what I do or where I go."

"You think I don't know that?"

"Then appreciate it, and don't make me regret it. The last thing I need is to be critiqued by you."

Fred looked slapped. "Then I'll be sure to only say what you want to hear from now on, master. Like a good little slave – like Harry. Is that what you want? Is that why you wanted him?"

Snape stared deep into Fred's eyes which were wild and hot with anger. When Fred refused to stand down, Severus unsheathed his wand and waved it in one wide sweeping motion. Suddenly Fred yelped in pain as his arms were magically pulled behind him. Snape could hear the mechanical pop of a lock fastening. He'd never had to use the spell before. He'd never wanted to.

"Fuck you." Fred spat.

Snape, his heart racing in angry endorphins, swept out the room and locked the door behind him, with Fred still inside.

He stood against the door and listened, but he couldn't hear anything. No emotional outbursts or breaking glass – yet. A cool breeze blew in from the glass door beside him, making him jolt and take a few deep breaths. He and Fred had fought before, of course. But not like this. Never this passionately before Harry arrived. Perhaps he'd underestimated how quickly Fred would become attached to the boy. He was young and beautiful, after all.

Suddenly Snape remembered the words he'd spoken to Harry only a few hours before. _If you do something that you need punishment for, I will tell you what the consequences are and you will have time to process it before anything happens. _And yet, the second he had become agitated he'd acted without any of the calm reserve he'd promised Harry. Just because Fred was more stable, just because he expected more from Fred, didn't mean he didn't deserve a master who was predictable and fair. Snape rubbed his eyes. He wasn't used to Fred speaking to him with anything but adoration and it made his blood boil in anger and fear.

Without thinking more about it he waved his wand over the door, securing it with a protection spell and a two-way silencing spell. He didn't want Potter to sneak down and try to talk to Fred through the door.

Before leaving he went to Harry who was carefully folding his new tunics that Bittie had delivered that afternoon, and placing them in the wardrobe. Harry fell to his knees upon seeing him. Snape was almost getting used to it, although this time the movement was much less panicked, and more – graceful.

He apologized for needing to leave and then gave Harry instructions to stay in his room for the rest of the night. He promised to have Gabbie come up so that he could get anything he wanted to eat or read.

"Do you need anything else from me?" He asked. "Will you be alright alone for the night?"

"Alone? Master?"

"You can expect to see Fred tomorrow. He'll be – occupied for the evening. Do not go looking for him."

"Yes, master," Harry said. And Snape thought that he detected an edge of concern and - anger, perhaps. The boy thought Fred was being punished, no doubt. And he was right, to a degree. Snape's tone would have given him away to a much less perceptive person than Harry. Hopefully this didn't affect what little progress he'd made with the boy.

"Harry, you needn't worry about Fred."

"Of course not, master," he said obediently, but with narrowing eyes.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Up next is Snape's 'council' meeting. I hope you stick around. <strong>_

_**And as always, reviews are highly appreciated. Thanks!**_

_-poppypickford_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Story information, warnings and disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**_

_**A/N:** I'm so sorry about the long wait on this chapter, I was out of town for a good part of the week. This chapter is a little shorter than the previous chapters have been, but you should expect the chapters from here on out to be a little longer. Also, you can plan to see a new chapter every 5-7 days._

_And again, thanks so much for reading! I really appreciate the interest and the wonderful reviews._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

As he sat in his usual chair at the council headquarters with a firewhiskey and a splitting headache, Snape was beginning to wish that he'd never lost his temper. The anger he'd felt towards Fred was quickly dulling and he desperately wished that after such an exhausting meeting, he could return home to some modicum of normalcy. And yet, after years of living with a young man who rarely gave him a moment of defiance, the combative high-strung attitude Fred had displayed unnerved him. Perhaps a few hours of forced contemplation and separation was good for the both of them. Or, at least that's what he told himself.

"But Severus, we've talked about this and you've agreed that it would be an ideal solution." Avery leaned over the long black table and dug his fingernails into his own glass of firewhiskey.

"I was speaking figuratively. What you suggest would be a suicide mission," Snape said.

"Perhaps not, there could be a way to save most of them."

"I refuse to even consider such an idea. It's barbaric."

The small table groaned and whispered amongst themselves. They had been there for nearly an hour and yet nothing was decided in regards to Harry, or _any_ new plans for that matter.

"I thought you were with us on this?" Avery said.

"I most certainly am. We want the same outcome, make no mistake. But I will not spill blood to see it accomplished."

The table was still talking amongst itself when Avery leaned in closer to Snape and said, "Slave blood, Severus. Think about what we could achieve."

"You say you want change Avery and yet you've fallen all too easily into believing the rubbish they feed us about slavery. I don't know what your relationship is with Ms. Chang, but I am most certainly not under the impression that my slave - my _slaves_, are inhuman and worthless."

Avery sat back in his chair and sighed. "I am not like them, Severus. You know that."

"I do. But, I think you are too willing to sacrifice ideals and morals for victory," Snape said. "That is not a good start to the kind of change that I am looking for - that I thought we were both looking for."

Avery just nodded once in response as the rest of the table began quieting.

"I think Avery's idea is well founded," said Pembroke, whose age and life experience had transformed him into a pleasantly calm and collected individual. He had once been a passionate follower of Voldemort in his early years, but in the last several decades he had pulled away sharply. As of recently, he was one of Severus's most trusted allies against the new ministry changes. The sharp edge of radicalism was gone from Pembroke's countenance and it made Snape more and more inclined to listen to his opinion.

"But I agree with Severus that it is far too dangerous and would likely end disastrously," Pembroke said. "I for one would not be willing to send my own slave into such a situation. Nor do I think that most of us would." The table murmured in quiet acknowledgment. Most of them still struggled with openly acknowledging any affection for their slaves.

"Even if we were to manage to free every slave simultaneously, we could not be sure that it would have the desired reaction, even with Mr. Potter's assured assistance. As far as I am concerned it is more than likely that it would simply disorient and panic the public. Yes, it might reawaken their anger toward the ministry, but the reaction would be sporadic and unorganized at best. I predict that any uprising of that sort would be easily taken care of by Malfoy. I say that we need to find a way to gather large organized forces."

Snape nodded in agreement and glanced at Avery who was gazing down at his clasped hands in quiet remittance. It did not surprise Severus that the council would propose using Harry to further their agenda, but the suggestion put on the table by Avery was far more dangerous and reckless than he'd anticipated.

Avery had suggested that in addition to Harry, if every possible slave were to be simultaneously released back into the public, it would create a sort of battle cry to a weary population of witches and wizards to stand up in arms against the ministry. However, as Pembroke suggested the outcome would more than likely create mass panic, disoriented violence, and quick danger for every slave involved.

"Besides, no one would ever trust us," said young Wentworth.

This, Snape believed was the most significant point. Even if Avery's hastily concocted plan were to work in some capacity, the outcome would be fatal for everyone at the table, even though they were all equally passionate and superiorly capable of dismantling the ministry because of their inner knowledge and influence. If they were to purposefully rally such passionate reactions from the public, every known ex-death eater and high ministry official would be on the short list for execution.

Although Severus's purchase of Harry was in no way motivated by his fame or usability in their rebellion, Snape was not blind to the fact that he may be needed and that there was very little he could do to stop it without raising unwanted suspicions about his own loyalty. Snape was nearly obsessed in his urgency to find quick change for the Wizarding world, but he was unwilling to sacrifice his influence on the council. And he was also unwilling to threaten the life and safety of himself or his slaves.

Therefore, he would have to allow himself to lay his affection for his slaves on his sleeve and use it as a tool for safekeeping both Fred and Harry to the best of his ability. Although it was considered a taboo by some, Severus was willing to be open about his deep affection for Fred, and in turn Harry, if it would help protect them in the end. He wanted nothing more than to see a successful end to this long and tiresome battle without losing any more young innocent lives to the slaughter.

A shadow in the back moved forward and Snape looked up at the tall thin figure. He'd seen Draco Malfoy as soon as he'd arrived, but thought it best to ignore him until he chose to contribute. Draco's presence in these meetings was few and far between, but never poorly chosen. Draco was far more likely to be found out by Lucius - who Snape suspected had his son watched, often.

Severus had been suspicious of Draco's wavering loyalty for his father and the new slave laws, especially after he'd witnessed a private moment of tenderness between him and his slave one evening at a rare dinner party in his apartment – which was most likely organized by Lucius to try and involve his son in his own ministry politics. After that Snape had not been surprised when Draco had approached him with an emotional plea of help.

"I have an idea, sort of," Draco said. He looked around at the other council members cautiously before saying. "Actually it was Hermione's idea but I didn't want to chance bringing her here to tell you herself."

"Your slave thinks she can solve this?" Avery said with a snort. "You must be so proud."

Several of the committee members chuckled softly. Some looked between Snape and Draco questionably.

"Don't say a fucking thing about –"Draco looked about ready to leap over the table when Severus interrupted. "I suggest you shut up and listen to him, Avery. I assure you that Miss Granger's intelligence surpasses nearly everyone at this table. And it most certainly surpasses yours."

Draco smirked at him before taking a seat near the end of the table, and beginning.

* * *

><p>When Severus finally returned home, it was much later than he'd anticipated - nearly midnight. One of the house elves scurried out from underfoot nervously as he stormed through the entryway with his robes billowing behind him. He'd left Fred alone and shackled for over three hours.<p>

He waved his wand over the door, releasing all of the enchantments before opening the double doors and entering. Fred was sitting on one of the couches under the window. He looked exhausted. His arms were still pulled behind his back, but on second glance Severus could see that the bonds weren't too terribly tight -just uncomfortable.

Fred was slumped over with his head bowed. When he heard Snape enter he looked up - his face was red and wet from tears, and his nose was puffy and swollen.

Severus took a deep breath before approaching him slowly, as if his slave might snap at him. In all their time together Snape had never punished Fred so severely, or treated him quite so much like a slave.

Snape pulled out a handkerchief from inside his robe and then sat down next to him. He showed Fred the cloth and then began wiping his face when he received a nod of approval.

"This is the second time I've done this today," Snape said as he wiped Fred's eyes and stuffed up nose. Fred looked him in the eyes intensely. "It's been a long time since I've caused quite so many tears," he said. "I can't say that I miss it."

Fred just continued to stare at him, unblinking.

"Speaking of Harry, it might be a good idea if we both went up to him later. He's worried about you and angry at me. He thinks I punished you."

"Is he right?" Fred whispered, his voice deeper and raspier than Snape had expected. "Was this a punishment or are you just angry at me?"

Severus examined Fred's worried expression, and then dropped the handkerchief into their laps so that he could use his fingers to stroke at Fred's cheeks and tuck his tear soaked red hair behind his ears.

"I guess it was a little of both. But I regret it now. I should have spoken to you about this before I did anything - hasty."

Fred shook his head slowly. "No. I deserved it."

"Maybe, but I didn't handle you correctly, you deserve better."

"You're always overthinking this," Fred said gently. "It's like before, when you wanted to pretend like you weren't my master and I wasn't your slave. We made an agreement, and I've been so much happier since. We both have."

Severus's brow furrowed as he looked Fred over, he'd always assumed that Fred was comfortable with the way things were but he'd never before said that he was _happier. _It made him wonder if there really was something that he was missing when it came to Fred's needs - especially after he'd confessed to wanting to be hit on occasion.

Fred and his relationship had always been unconventional. Severus had willfully resisted the reality of his ownership of Fred, but Fred had never been anything but accepting and submissive, even from the very beginning. Over time the two had fallen into their roles of slave and master without much being said on the matter. However, after Snape had decided to become intimate with Fred, he'd decided that they couldn't continue on without some kind of agreement, and some kind of rule system. It had been negotiated so long ago that Snape rarely thought about it. The rules were so ingrained in him now that it felt strange to imagine Fred as anything but his slave who was free-spirited but always obedient, and never broke any of the simple rules they'd set out. And yet, Snape had never once considered that Fred might be doing it all because it made him _happier. _Snape knew what a pleasure it was to have Fred as his slave, but he had assumed that it was simply comfortable for Fred, at best.

"You're happier as a slave?" He asked.

"Sort of. I would be even happier with my brother, and my family and everything back to normal again," Fred said simply. "But I wouldn't want to stop being with you, just like we are."

"You know you always have a home here, Fred. We've spoken about that. But I never thought that you'd want to still be a slave."

Fred shrugged. "I would like to have my freedom back, legally. And I want everyone else to have that too. But -" he looked at his Master for a long time while trying to rally the nerve to confess the long suppressed emotions that his first ever real punishment had helped surface - "But, I like the way we are. I like submitting to you."

Severus's hands stilled in their soothing path back and forth over Fred's shoulders. Sometimes he wondered… but he'd never thought he'd hear Fred say it. He gripped Fred's shoulders tight in an overwhelming desire to crush Fred into him.

His wand was sitting next to them and he fumbled for it in a hasty urgency to get the manacles off. He wanted to get his slave naked and writhing beneath him as soon as possible.

"Wait!" Fred shouted when he saw Snape point the wand behind his back. "Wait, wait. Leave them on."

"Whatever for," Snape said. "I want to fuck you."

Fred whimpered. "Fuck me while they're still on. Please? Please do it while I'm still tied up."

Severus hesitated, his breathing hard. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, please master. I want you to."

Without bothering to think too much about it Snape cast a quick spell to dispel both of their robes and then tossed his wand onto the rug. He dove in for a kiss which was hard and urgent and made Fred moan more desperately than he'd ever heard before, so he reach up and pulled his slaves head back by the hair. Fred shouted in pleasurable surprise.

When he finally had his slave laid out below him, writhing and completely at his mercy with his hands clasped behind his back, Snape was dizzy with the power of his ownership, and he didn't even try to convince himself that he didn't love it.

* * *

><p>"I love you," Fred said as they lay languidly on the couch some time later. Severus had dissolved the bonds as soon as they had come out of their post-orgasmic haze. "Are you still mad at me?"<p>

"No. Now stop worrying."

Fred snuggled further into his master's embrace and sighed. "You know, it's a really terrible thing – crying while tied up."

"I bet Harry could have told you that."

"I know. Poor Harry."

"Speaking of Harry," Snape said, suddenly remembering something that had been bothering him. "When did he hit you?"

"What?"

"When he apologized, he said he was sorry for hitting you."

Fred laughed. "Oh yeah. He started to panic so I tried to hold his arms down. Then he punched me in the stomach to get away. It was a weak effort."

"Do I need to speak to him about it?"

"No, of course not. I shouldn't have interfered. I probably just made the situation a lot worse. It's hard for me to understand what he's been through, I should have known better than to try and confine him. Maybe he would have stayed and talked to me if I'd handled it differently."

"I doubt it. And never mind anyway Fred, it was better for him to speak to me." Fred just nodded and laid his head down against Snape's chest.

Snape supposed that they couldn't expect too much out of the boy so far as rational thinking was concerned, at least for a while. He had been like a tamed animal for all those years, and now, all of a sudden someone had unlocked the cage. He would just have to treat him with gloved hands and not be surprised if he got bitten.

"Master?"

"Yes."

"This doesn't… change anything, does it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Tonight, what I said and what happened. Does it doesn't change anything between us?"

"No, Fred, it doesn't."

"Good."

"Although," Snape said with a low drawl. "I might have to make use of that hand cuffing spell once in a while."

Fred grinned. "Excellent."

* * *

><p>"You should wake Harry up and let him know that you're alright," Snape said as they stood close together at the top of the stairs. The master bedroom was to the left, and the slave room to the right.<p>

"He must have been terrified, all alone."

"Yes," Snape said with a sigh. Even though Harry had only been with him for a few days he wasn't sure if it was such a good idea to keep him isolated. At first he'd thought that Harry would adjust better if he had his space. But earlier in the evening as he watched Harry sleep so peacefully against his leg, with one hand unconsciously clenched into his robe fabric, he realized that Harry might be seeking a strong protective presence more than anything else.

"Fred, go get Harry and come to my room with him." Fred looked at him questionably. "Not for that. I just think he needs to learn to be close to me without expecting to get hurt. I made progress with him this afternoon. Do you mind?"

Fred smiled sweetly and shook his head. "No, not at all." He started to walk away and then turned around with a grin. "Master, have you noticed what a great ass he has?"

Severus smirked. "How could I not? He keeps taking his clothes off whenever he's in my presence." Fred chuckled and then hurried down the hall.

Severus had decided it was best to not tell Fred that he'd also been thinking about Harry all day, wishing that he could have him in his bed, even platonically.

But then again, it was quite obvious that Fred had been thinking about the same things.

* * *

><p>Fred leaned over Harry's bed and brushed his curls away from his forehead. "Harry, wake up."<p>

Harry stirred and opened his eyes drowsily. "Fred? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry nodded and rubbed his eyes.

"I know it's late, but the master wants to know if you'll come sleep in the big bed with us."

Harry's eyes shot open and he sat up. Fred smiled and stroked his trembling shoulders. "It's not for sex Harry, I promise. Just sleeping. We just want you to be with us while we sleep. Will you come?"

Harry nodded.

"Good."

Harry crawled out from under the covers and stood. He reached for the hem of his sleeping shirt and began pulling it off. "No, Harry. You can leave it on it you want," Fred said.

"But you said that you sleep naked. Won't the master want me undressed too?"

Fred smirked. He was quite sure that his master would love to have them both naked in his bed, but that was probably a step too far for their first night. "Maybe another night. Here, I'll put my shirt on too." He hurried over to the wardrobe and changed quickly before throwing his dirty robe in the laundry basket in the corner.

He took Harry's hand and pulled, but Harry hesitated, resisting his grip fearfully. "Harry, don't overthink it. You seemed fine after you'd spoken with the master earlier, he didn't do anything so bad to you then, did he?"

Harry shook his head again. Fred was right, Harry thought. He hadn't been hurt yet, so he might as well stop thinking that something terrible was around every corner – at least until something bad finally happened. He closed his eyes and steadied his nerves, and when he opened them again he was calm and confident enough to follow Fred without another word.

Severus was already in bed and half asleep when Fred and Harry slipped in. He was exhausted and just wanted to sleep through the night with both of his slaves next to him so he wouldn't have to miss Fred or worry about Harry. He opened his eyes wearily to see Fred smiling at him as he slipped in next to him. Harry was standing still and in good form at the side of the bed – probably resisting the urge to fall to his knees.

"How do you feel, Harry?"

"Fine, master. Thank you."

He reached out a hand and Harry came forward automatically. "Lay down next to Fred and sleep. You're safe here."

Harry nodded once and then laid down on the edge of bed. Snape clicked off the lamp and then reached over to run his fingers through Harry's messy hair soothingly, before flopping back down to sleep. He would have plenty of time in the morning to enjoy the sight of his two beautiful young slaves asleep in his bed.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thanks! And as always, reviews are highly appreciated. <strong>_

_-poppypickford_


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:**__ Super long chapter! And for those of you who have been waiting patiently (or impatiently) for the SnarrySlash to begin already and/or for Harry's story to start unfolding more rapidly… your wait is over. I hope you like it, because although it gave me ridiculous writer's block, I really love this chapter. _

_Also, I am thinking about looking for a beta, however I am far too lazy to go hunting, especially because this story style is a little unique and not to everyone's taste. So, if you are interested and can make a case for your brilliant editing skills (or semi-brilliant), I would love to hear from you!_

_I want to thank everyone again for commenting! I really do appreciate it more than I can say and I hope you continue to be inspired to write them. _

_Thanks and Enjoy!_

_-poppypickford  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

As a slave, Harry's first real experience with sexual desire had begun when he woke up the morning after the first night in his new master's bed to see Fred being kissed by their master and fondled under the sheets. But it wasn't really the voyeuristic desire he'd felt at simply watching them - it was mostly the surprising but overwhelming desire to trade places with either one of them.

Harry knew that theoretically pleasure was supposed to accompany sex. Although, it wasn't something that he'd thought about much, or had much experience with as a student, or during the war. Ginny had tried to give him a hand job once, which was nice, but then Flitch had walked by the alcove they were hiding in and ruined the mood.

A few months after that, after Harry had broken it off with Ginny and was bored at the Dursley's that final summer, he'd snuck out and gone to a seedy pub a few blocks into town. There he'd met a classmate named Jim from primary school who'd turned out to be rather attractive, and unabashedly gay. Although he'd never thought of himself as gay or straight or anything in-between, Harry didn't say no when Jim followed him into the loo and offered to give him a blow job in the last stall, under the window. It wasn't fireworks or an epiphany or anything, but it was a lot better than Ginny's hand job.

And yet, even after that Harry didn't really think that much about sex, or pleasure, or anything else because, frankly, he was too busy. So, it wasn't until he was branded slave number 001 – property of Lucius Malfoy, that Harry began thinking regularly about sex - and that was only because he realized quite quickly that sex was all he was wanted for. But of course, sex with Lucius was anything but pleasurable.

The only time Harry could ever remember feeling anything near to pleasure while living at Malfoy manner was during a few dinner parties that Lucius threw. One of the guests was a young Russian wizard named Leon from Durmstrang. He was a few years older than Harry and had fair hair and kind blue eyes. Harry didn't remember him being a death eater, so he must have been someone Lucius had hired in his never ceasing search for intelligent and like-minded witches and wizards to help him run the ministry. Whenever Leon came over he would ask Lucius if he could have Harry sit at his feet while he ate. He liked to let Harry rest his head on his knee while he ran his fingers through his hair. It was wonderful. But, even after Leon would leave and Harry would return to his little cot in the slave's room, he never thought about the attractive young Russian in a sexual way. Because he spent most of his time hurting as the result of sex, Harry had very little energy when it came to fantasizing about what it might be like to feel good.

However, as Harry laid and gazed at his master and his fellow slave in the midst of what was obviously a passionate and intensely pleasurable moment of mutual satisfaction, Harry was suddenly overcome with unexpected new desires.

Even though Fred looked almost exactly like his brother George, in that moment he didn't resemble George at all. Not in all of his years as a slave had Harry ever seen George put on an act half as convincing as what Fred was displaying – and that's how Harry knew it must be genuine, because George was the greatest actor he knew. George had had Lucius convinced for years that he was in love with him, judging by Lucius's deep infatuation with his favorite slave. George, after all, was the only one that Lucius ever bothered to kiss. Not that Harry minded, of course.

Harry blinked once and looked his new master over. He could be called ugly, that was true. But there was something dashing about him as well. And the more time Harry spent with him, the more he began to believe that he could think of this man - his ex-teacher and former enemy - as a master worthy of respect and trust.

After this morning Harry didn't think that he would mind being called into sexual service too much.

When Fred suddenly gasped and came quietly into his master's hand, Harry shut his eyes and did his absolute best at pretending to sleep. He could usually fool Lucius, so he could only hope that he could fool Snape and Fred. He didn't particularly want to be found out while he still had an erection from watching them. It might give his master ideas about using him sexually right now – and although intriguing, that was a little too startling a thought for his second morning with a new master.

"Did we wake Harry?" Fred whispered several moments later, after both of their breathing had calmed and they had moved to lie back against the headboard together.

"No, I don't think so."

"He's still so tired, poor thing."

There was a long silence after that, and although the bed was warm and Harry would have loved to fall asleep to the lovely comforting sound of the two other bodies breathing next to him – the truth was that Harry wasn't tired at all.

Finally, after he heard Snape get up and leave the bed with a quiet whisper about showering, Harry got the courage to sit up.

"Morning," Fred said with a grin. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Do you think you'd mind sleeping here sometimes, just like last night?"

Harry smiled and nodded. He definitely wouldn't mind, especially if he woke up in the same way.

* * *

><p>Over the next week Harry's life began to fall into a pattern that became less and less alarming as each night passed without anything too extraordinary happening to him.<p>

In fact, nothing was happening to him at night. Nothing at all.

During most afternoons he and Fred would go flying around the master's extensive gardens and grounds. Several days after he arrived he found a new flying robe and thick dragon skin boots with gold buckles on his bed. They were nicer than the ones he'd had a Hogwarts. He thought about bringing them downstairs to his master and asking him to take them back and save his money on something more important than a slave, but after thinking it over he decided that not only was it not his place to decline, but it was also silly to look a gift horse in the mouth.

That night he'd knelt at his master's feet and thanked him, which earned him one of the only touches he'd received since the night his master had held him while he cried. Snape had laid his hand on Harry's shoulder and given him a perfunctory squeeze. It hadn't been memorable at the time, but now that Harry knew how little touch he would receive from his master - any touch seemed memorable.

Even now that Harry spent many nights sleeping next to his master and fellow slave, he was usually pushed to the side and given half of the big bed all to himself while the other two gravitated towards each other until they awoke entwined. From his cold spot on the bed the warmth of their combined body heat attracted him like a moth to the flame and he often found himself waking with one arm, or a leg mere inches from them – which he would always bring back to himself quickly, before they woke up and scolded him. It was obvious that his master wasn't interested in him sexually. Which begged the question – what _was_ he wanted for if it wasn't sex? And that was the really alarming part.

One Friday evening the three of them sat in the little sitting room. It was particularly quiet because no one wanted to play chess, or talk or listen to the wireless, and so Harry had lots of time to think. He had been thinking about the comment his master had made when he'd first arrived about spending a bit of time alone with Harry in the evenings. The idea had worried him at the time, but now that a few weeks had passed without an invitation to such a private evening, Harry was worried that he'd done something wrong.

The master had come home late from a meeting with "the council" as Fred called it, cryptically. Normally such mysterious goings-on would have made Harry suspicious, but because Snape's private ministry dealings couldn't possibly be as dangerous as Lucius's had been, Harry thought it best to save himself the time and trouble of worrying about it. There was absolutely nothing he could do about it and his curiosity would probably earn him a beating.

"I'm exhausted," said Snape in a low whisper as he leaned his head back against the sitting chair with one glass of firewhiskey in his hand.

"Go to sleep then, master," said Fred, who had been reading quietly next to Harry on the couch. Harry had been flipping through a quidditch magazine that the house elves delivered to him every week. "I can come with you, if you want," Fred said hopefully.

Harry looked up at his master, his stomach in knots.

"No. I think I'll go straight to sleep. You two can join me if you like, or you may feel free to retire to your own beds."

Harry let out a breath of relief and went back to reading. He hoped that Fred would choose to sleep with their master again tonight so that Harry would be invited to join them. He thought he'd noticed a pleasant new smell on his master as he'd walked passed him today, like eucalyptus or pine – a new shampoo maybe. If he slept in the big bed he'd be close enough to investigate it further. And anyway, Harry was beginning to dread the nights when Snape and Fred left him alone in the quiet slave room, so that they could be together alone – without him.

The concept of Fred enjoying his sexual relationship with his master had angered Harry at first, but his feelings on the subject had evolved. He didn't want to call it jealousy, but the lonely sinking feeling he felt when they scurried off together and left him alone was undeniably intolerable. And yet, when George or Lavender were called by Lucius to service him alone, Harry was always selfishly relieved that it wasn't him. And when Lucius called them all together, he was always terrified that he would have to witness something horrible happening to his fellow slaves. None of those feelings had occurred to Harry recently. In fact, sometimes during the night he would lay awake and imagine what it would feel like to have his kind new master speak to him in that low drawl while four hands moved over his body. But it was a silly fantasy because neither his master nor Fred wanted him.

Maybe he was just some sort of luxury accessory. Maybe Snape liked to brag about owning the great Harry Potter, but when it came right down to it, Fred's long, lean and muscular body was much more appealing to him than Harry – who was sallow skinned and scrawny.

Fred stretched his arms above his head and Harry glanced down at his thighs, which were exposed by the slowly lifting robe hem. "Did you like flying over to the lake today?"

They had flown to the south most corner of Snape's private grounds, where there was a lovely lake and a dock that bobbed in the water. They had laid and looked up at the clouds and Harry had fallen asleep to the gentle sway of the water. As slaves they weren't allowed to pass across the boundaries of their master's property without causing the slave mark to send a runaway alert to the slave agency. But fortunately for them Snape's grounds were extensive and he didn't care where they went, so long as they were safe and home by dinner. These were some of the stricter rules, but Harry didn't find them particularly difficult to follow. He was punctual and a good flier.

"Yes, I did. Thank you for showing me."

"You're allowed to go back whenever you like. You should feel free to do whatever you want, especially if I'm busy or something."

Harry blinked and looked down quickly at his magazine before Fred noticed his darkening expression. They were slaves. They were never _busy_ - not unless their master was occupied with them.

"Harry? What's the matter?"

"Nothing. Can I go to bed please?"

* * *

><p>"Already? Are you sick?" Fred asked, worried. "It's not even ten yet. The master will want to know if you're sick."<p>

Harry stood up and shook his head. "I'm not sick. I'm just tired."

Fred nodded unsmiling, and so Harry went up to bed, leaving the magazine on the coffee table. It was depressing sometimes anyway - reading about things that were going on outside, where Harry couldn't get to, even if he wanted.

Fred didn't go to the master's bed, like Harry had thought he might. He came in an hour or so later and shut the door quietly behind him. Harry hadn't been able to sleep. All he could do was lie awake wondering, once again, why he was here and what he was wanted for.

Fred changed quickly at the wardrobe and then went to sit down at the edge of his squeaky mattress.

"You're angry with me," he said, and his voice was rough and melancholy. "What did I do? Tell me so I can make it better."

Harry opened his eyes and stared at the dark wall.

"Please tell me Harry. I've been so happy since you came here and I don't want to lose you, again. I haven't had a friend in a long time."

He rolled over and looked at Fred, who was sitting up in bed with his arms wrapped around his thighs. "You have the master," Harry said.

"That's true. But we both have him. Can't we have each other too?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't have him. And I don't have you either, not really."

"What do you mean? This is your home now. We've been trying to make you feel welcome here."

"I know," Harry said sadly. "Goodnight Fred." And with that he flopped over and closed his eyes and was glad when Fred didn't ask him any more questions.

* * *

><p>Sometime late that night when the house was usually completely still, something woke Harry up. It couldn't have been Fred, because he was sleeping and snoring softly beside him.<p>

Harry sat up when he heard a door close just outside of their room, followed by footsteps moving down the hall. Under the door he could see a glow of yellow light. His master must have been working in the potions lab. Across from the slave bedroom was a spare closet where Snape stored extra ingredients and tools. Fred had shown it to Harry one morning when he had gotten an accidental glimpse of the room as a house elf was coming out from cleaning.

Harry wondered what his master was doing up in the middle of the night, brewing potions. But mostly he was thinking about the fact that his master was awake and alone and all Harry had to do was walk outside and hope that he got noticed. He was pretty sure he wouldn't get hit for being out of bed. That wasn't a rule. He might get yelled at, but that was worth the risk – Harry wanted his master to notice him, and he was prepared for a little risk to achieve it.

Harry slipped out of bed and adjusted his wrinkled sleeping shirt. He knew his hair must be mussed and he probably didn't look particularly attractive. But that was okay because all he really hoped for was the possibility that his master might let him sleep next to him for the rest of the night.

He padded across the bedroom rug as quietly as he could and slipped through the door. The hall was dark and the potions closet was closed. The only light he could see was coming from the master's bedroom at the other end. He hesitated. Snape had told him that he could come to him anytime if he needed something, but the idea of knocking on a master's door unless he was bleeding or sick or in danger, was pretty nerve wracking.

Suddenly the master's door swung open and the hall was flooded with light. Snape was standing in the doorway still wearing his black slacks from earlier in the evening and his heavy boots that he'd worn out. However instead of his fine robes he wore a brown linen shirt that Harry had seen him wear whenever he brewed. It was thick and stain resistant. Harry wondered why his master had been so adamant about going to bed when he had obviously intended on staying up late into the night to brew.

"Harry?"

Harry jumped a little. "Yes, master?"

"What are you doing in the hall?"

Harry glanced at his closed bedroom door wondering what would happen if he just ran back into his room.

"I don't know, master. I couldn't sleep, I guess." He squinted at the other man's tall figure. His glasses were smudged and the prescription was a little old so he couldn't always see well from a distance. Lucius didn't care too much about Harry's eye sight. "I'm sorry, master. I'll go back now," he said as he reached anxiously for the doorknob.

"No. Come over here."

Harry turned and walked over quickly as commanded. Maybe he would get hit after all.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" Snape asked when Harry was standing just before him, his arms still wrapped around his thin chest.

"I heard a noise. And then I was thinking."

"Anything you want to share with me?"

Harry thought. It was a difficult question. He didn't want to share anything he was thinking because all of his thoughts had been silly or too inappropriate and selfish for a slave. However, he didn't think that his master would appreciate being told nothing at all.

"I was thinking about you master." Harry answered simply.

"Thinking of me keeps you up at night? Do I scare you that much?"

Harry shook his head. "No, master. You don't scare me at all."

"Don't I?"

"No. You're not what I expected."

Snape cocked his head and studied Harry. The gaze made Harry feel self-conscious, but it also made him warm and his chest heavy with anticipation.

"I do hope that you are beginning to feel more comfortable here, Harry. But I understand that my home is hardly the place you would ever wish to be. You need not pretend to like me. So long as you have everything you need, I am satisfied."

The generous and honest words weren't what Harry had expected. "But, master. I am happy to be here. And I do like being in your home." He held the other man's dark gaze. "I just wish that I belonged to you, the way Fred does," he said in a whisper, wondering if he would be laughed at for wishing something that his master wasn't inclined to give him.

Snape's expression as he looked down at Harry was so darkly fixated that Harry was startled for a minute, but when the gaze traveled down his body and then back to linger at his lips Harry began to ache in the same needy way he had when he'd seen Snape kissing Fred. Except this time Harry was more than a little curious about what it would feel like to be kissed by his master - he was obsessed by it. His starvation for touch was driving him slowly mad and he would do anything for even the simplest of touches.

"If it pleases you master - may I sleep with you tonight? I fall asleep easier."

Snape's gaze snapped up to his eyes and his speech was slower than normal. "Yes, of course."

Harry followed Snape into the bedroom and kneeled by the end of the bed when commanded. His master was becoming more skilled at commanding Harry in the way he was accustomed. Unlearning all of his most basic slave behavior so that he could act more like Fred wasn't something that Harry wanted to deal with, and his master knew it. Harry was happy kneeling for his new master, who never hit or kicked him while he was down, but just nodded approvingly or – as he'd done once or twice at the very beginning – petted Harry and ran his fingers through his hair.

He didn't do that this time though, rather he turned and faced his leather chair and began undressing with his back to Harry. It wasn't the first time he'd seen his master as he unclothed like this, but because Fred was always with them and was often involved in removing the master's clothes, Harry usually felt as though he was intruding on some intensely private moment. This time however was the first time that he felt like he could enjoy the view – like the moment belonged to him somehow.

When Snape had removed his shirt and laid it on the table next to the armoire and had taken of his belt, he sat on the chair and reached for his boots.

"I can help you, if you wish master," Harry blurted.

Snape looked at him for a long time before nodding once and sitting back in the chair. Harry stood as gracefully as he could and walked over. This was something he was very good at. Lucius made them undress him almost every night. He had loved watching their hands move over him until he was finally wearing nothing at all and could press their faces toward his cock and demand their mouths. It had bothered Harry for a while, but as he became more skilled at relaxing his master with gentle touches and his skilled mouth, it became a task which was easily performed and one in which he never feared a beating. Lucius was a creature of habit and was satisfied by their simple nightly routine.

Harry kneeled down in front of the chair and got to work. His old custom would come back to him easily and he hoped to impress. And yet, the prospect of voluntarily touching and unclothing_ this_ man was making him hard and a bit breathless. That was not something that he was used to.

He began by lifting up one booted foot onto his bent knee and unlaced it with even assured twists of the thumb before pulling it off gently and setting it next to him. He did the other with equal care and then rolled off the black wool socks. Snape tensed slightly when Harry took his left foot and pressed his thumbs into the muscles rhythmically. But after a few moments he relaxed into the unexpected massage and let Harry do his work. By the time Harry had finished with one foot and then the other, his master was completely relaxed and motionless in the chair. Harry would have thought that he was asleep if he didn't open his eyes and stare at him intensely when he'd finished and placed both feet on either side of him so he could kneel between the other man's spread legs.

When he received no protest or further instruction Harry continued boldly. He reached up and unfastened the fine gold clasps at the waist of the black pants and then hooked the tips of his fingers under the waistline. He wanted to reach down further and investigated the warm stomach he could just barely feel, but instead he glanced up at his master's half lidded eyes for permission. When Snape smirked slightly and lifted his hips from the chair, Harry immediately took the cue to continue. He pulled the fabric down slowly past his hips which were still clothed in a pair of thin black shorts, and then over his long pale thighs that Harry was particularly fond of for the strong visible muscles, and then over his boney knees and then finally off so that Harry could fold the fabric carefully to avoid wrinkling, and set it next to the shoes.

When Harry looked back again Snape was staring at him calculatingly. He often slept like this – in his shorts – so Harry assumed that he was finished with his work. And yet, his master seemed to be waiting for something. Harry glanced at his master's cock which was already half-hard. Maybe Snape knew somehow about what Lucius would require of him at the end of an undressing, and wanted the same treatment. He looked at his master's intense but gentle expression and then again at the clothed cock and decided that he really wouldn't mind. He'd been wondering what his master felt like, and smelt like, and tasted like, in the most intimate of ways. He'd seen Fred when they thought he was sleeping and he had always seemed uncommonly enthusiastic. Maybe Snape would even caress his head and stroke his cheeks the way he had with Fred.

Without thinking any more about it, Harry closed his eyes and planted a kiss on his master's right knee. The leg twitched but he wasn't pushed away, so he continued his soft kisses on each knee and then ran his hands caressingly over his calves and then up to rest on the top of his thighs. The taste and the feel of the other man's warm skin under Harry's hands was intoxicating and he suddenly wanted to get to his goal and try to make his master touch him back. Harry grasped the thighs under his hands firmly and began moving his kisses up until he was inches from the cock he couldn't stop thinking about. Harry looked up into Snape's eyes – he was panting slightly and his hands were clutching the arms of the chair so hard Harry thought the wood underneath might crack.

Harry licked his lips and closed his eyes and pressed his lips against the hard flesh below him. And even though the fabric kept him from really experiencing it, Harry was suddenly desperate to taste more and so he moved his lips over the hardness and ran his hands up the thighs until his fingers were under the fabric and inches from his prize. However, before he had time to go any further two strong hands grabbed him by the arms and pulled him away and up. He gasped at the unexpected interruption.

"And Lucius always said that you were worthless at seduction," Snape said breathlessly. "He must have been talking about a different Harry Potter."

Harry shook his head. "No, I just never wanted him to want me."

Snape wrapped his hand around the back of Harry's neck and pulled him in. He pressed his lips to Harry's neck and kissed and sucked with a low groan.

Harry arched into him and his heavy rapid breathing began to sound like tiny desperate whimpers and his vision started to go dark and spotty. He'd wanted to be touched, but this was more than he'd imagined. He wanted to reach down and touch himself because he couldn't ever remembering feeling so hard and needy, but he kept his hands on his master's bare legs where he could run his fingers up and down across his warm and muscular thighs. When his hands got closer and closer to the still clothed cock Harry delighted in the feel of his master's breath catching and quivering against his throat.

In a suddenly bold move Harry pressed his palm against the hard clothed flesh and waited, breathlessly for a reaction or permission to continue where he'd left off, all the while dizzy and overcome with the foreign feeling of blind need that went against everything he thought he knew about being a slave. He wasn't supposed to need or want or ask for anything his master didn't please to give him, and yet here he was on the verge of begging to touch and be touched.

Snape gasped and opened his legs wide to allow Harry more access to him, which he took as immediate permission to rub his palm rhythmically across his master's cock. Snape threw his head back against the leather chair and nearly panted. Harry watched his master's face and thought the sight was beautiful in an indescribable way – just knowing he could make his master feel so good had never been anything but a chore, but now it felt like a heady rush of achievement and he understood now how Fred must have felt when he walked back into the slave's room that first night grinning like a cat that got the cream.

Harry leaned in a pressed his lips to his master's chest and began sucking on his flesh, just so he could have something to occupy his needy mouth with while he rubbed and listened to his master's sounds of pleasure. But just when he felt the cock under his hand twitch and his master's hip buck like he was about to come, a strong hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him away. Harry looked up, startled and tried to fall to the ground in apology, but the strong grip prevented it.

"When was the last time you were kissed, Harry?" Snape asked and his voice sounded so thick and sexual that Harry whimpered.

"About six years, I think," Harry answered truthfully.

Snape grinned slyly and ran his finger over Harry's slightly parted lips before pulling him in. Harry lifted himself up on his knees and pressed his pelvis to his master's but resisted the urge to rub and grind, like he wanted to.

"That makes me very pleased," his mater said when their lips were inches from each other. And then without another word he kissed him, and the heat and intimacy of it was so good that Harry gasped. Snape took advantage of the opportunity to dive into Harry's open mouth and press their tongues together and suck gently on Harry's bottom lip. Harry was too startled to kiss back but when his master began to move away he gravitated with him, already missing the deliciously intimate caress so much that he could feel a leap in his throat as if he was about to weep.

"You are an astonishing man, Harry Potter," Snape said.

Harry blinked and then slowly sat back down on his heels with wide eyes and stared at his master, dumbfounded and unsure of what to say, or do, or think. He knew suddenly that he had just opened up a new world, and he wasn't sure what it meant or whether or not it was okay for him to feel the way he did. But, he did know more than anything that he still wanted more.

With a final stroke across the cheek, Snape sat back in his chair and took a deep breath that made the muscles in his thighs tense and quiver. Harry ran his hands back and forth across the flesh subconsciously so that he could better feel the other man's warmth and movement.

Snape sat forward slowly and looked at Harry deep in the eyes as if he were trying to read something in his gaze. He ran his thumbs across Harry's cheeks and then placed his fingers once more on Harry's lips. Harry kissed the finger softly in acceptance, hoping that he would be kissed again, but instead his master just sat back in his chair and sighed. "I'm going to have to ask you to go back to your room for the night, Harry."

Harry looked up at him startled and moved his hands into his own lap. It wasn't what he was expecting. Usually, when Lucius was this hard – this turned on - there wasn't anything that would stop him from taking his slaves until he was completely satisfied.

Maybe Harry had been right, maybe his master didn't desire him. Maybe he wasn't attractive, or alluring. Maybe everything his master had said to him and all the noises he had made and reactions Harry had pulled had all been for someone else entirely. What if his master had been thinking about Fred? What if Fred was all he wanted? What if there wasn't any more room for Harry?

"This isn't rejection," Snape said firmly, in a voice like you might use with a child – or a first year student.

Harry looked down because he no longer wanted to look at his master who suddenly didn't look as beautiful as he'd thought. Now he looked threatening all over again. Harry had forgotten for a moment how easy it was for someone to hurt your spirit just as easily as they could hurt your body. "Of course not, master. I would never presume – It is always your decision to –"

"Harry, listen to me," he said, and it made Harry stop and look up at him despite the visible moisture growing in his eyes. "I would love to have you in my bed. But tonight is not the right time. You are going to have to trust me on this."

Harry nodded, unconvinced. He already missed the feel of his master's skin and he wished more than anything that he could lie down next to him and tuck his face under his master's chin, the way Fred does. He'd been thinking about it for days now. He thought about arguing the point. Fred would have done it, he would have argued. Maybe his master liked a little disobedience. But before he could make up his mind Snape stood and took Harry by the hand and lifted him to his feet.

"I believe I had promised that I would begin spending an hour alone with you every evening."

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes, master."

"Well, I believe we've put that off long enough." He nodded once. "I would be pleased if you came to my study tomorrow after dinner."

Harry smiled, but he didn't feel as happy as he might have. He still wasn't sure if he his master wanted him the way he wished he could be wanted. He wouldn't be able to bear it if he was told as much tomorrow.

His master led him to the door and opened it to the hall, which was dark and quiet and still. It looked exactly as he had left it, even though Harry felt completely different.

"And one more thing," Snape said. "I need you to promise me that you will not be jealous tomorrow when I ask Fred to spend the night with me alone."

"Yes, master," Harry said solemnly, suddenly dreading the prospect of having to see his fellow slave.

Harry turned to go but was pulled back gently by his master's hand. And before he had time to think he was being kissed, deeper and harder and more passionately than he had ever experienced in his life.

"Good night, Harry," Snape said when he finally broke away, and then shut the door between them leaving Harry to stand alone in the hall - dumbfounded and confused and very very hard.

* * *

><p><em>Reviews are greatly appreciated and provide excellent writing fuel. Thanks again!<em>

_-poppypickford_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Story information, warnings and disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**_

_**A/N:**__ Here's chapter six, finally. Sorry again about the wait. _

_I now have two fantastic new betas - __**lksnarry1 **__and__** hubrisofthegods**_** -**_ who were both hugely helpful with this chapter, and I want to credit and thank them for all their work. They are the reason that this chapter reads a little smoother than the others._

_Thanks again for reading, and enjoy!_

_-poppypickford_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

"And then I read in the book you gave me, you know master, the new one about home grown potions -" Fred said all this in a rush as he stabbed at his scrambled eggs - "that the climate in this part of England is perfect for loads of really great potions ingredients. Ingredients that you use all the time when you brew."

Harry glanced at Fred and then went back to staring at his master. The man had been quiet all morning at the breakfast table as if nothing at all had happened between them the previous night. However, once in a while he would catch Harry's glance and hold it for a few seconds longer than he might usually do and he would smirk knowingly. It made Harry hard all over again, which was frustrating because he'd had to take a long and cold shower last night and he didn't want to have to do it again. Besides, he wasn't sure if he was allowed to masturbate. It had been a rule at Malfoy manor, but Harry had never wanted to anyway. He thought he'd heard Fred do it once, so maybe it wasn't a rule here. But what Harry really wanted was his master's hand, not his own.

"So, I was thinking we should do it! I'll do most of the work, I promise. It would be fun to start growing some things. It could be like a hobby."

"That sounds fine," said Snape offhandedly.

"And Harry could help, if he wanted," said Fred. Harry swapped his gaze from Snape to Fred when he heard his name. Fred had been uncommonly happy and upbeat all morning compared to the increasingly quiet and reserved demeanor that Harry had observed over the past few days, and the change was making it really hard for Harry to be mad at him about getting the Master's attention that night. Not to mention the fact that Fred had walked around the slave bedroom naked that morning because all of his tunics were being cleaned. The thought of Fred with his master might have made Harry jealous all over again, but instead he was just confused as he sat between these two men who were both interesting and attractive and kinder than anyone Harry had known in years - and who were now staring at him as if it were his turn to say something.

"Sure," he said and his voice squeaked a little. Harry set his fork down gently on his napkin even though he hadn't finished all of his food and his master was looking at his barely touched scrambled eggs and sausage disapprovingly. Harry didn't think he'd be able to eat any more. Snape kept saying that Harry needed to eat as much as he could to regain his strength, whatever that meant, but Harry's stomach was all in knots and the greasy breakfast was making him queasy.

Fred looked between Harry and Snape with a wrinkled brow and then went back to eating his third sausage – unlike Harry, Fred seemed to be starving. Harry had thought about telling Fred what had happened the previous night but thought better of it. Harry wanted to keep the experience secret just for a little while longer. Besides, their master probably intended on telling Fred himself. Harry just hoped that he hadn't done something horribly wrong that they would sit and laugh at him for in their planned privacy.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot. The agency sent notices a few days ago. The mediwitch will be making her rounds next week," said Snape without looking up from his pile of letters and copy of the Daily Prophet – which Harry had been trying to get a glimpse of while his master was talking to Fred.

Fred groaned but didn't say any more about it. Harry didn't particularly like the mediwitch visits either because they were always far too invasive. Lucius was particularly adamant all of the slaves remain as healthy as possible, for a slave – but most importantly that they remain alive. The more he thought about it the more Harry realized that once they were all too old to be desirable slaves, Lucius had other plans for them, and that was the terrifying part. It was the mediwitch's job to check up on their health twice a year and assure the agency their masters weren't beating them too hard, or neglecting them too much, or feeding them too little. Of course, the standards for a healthy slave would hardly be considered acceptable for a free person.

"Well anyway, if Harry wants I thought we could go look for a good plot of land for the garden," said Fred with a wink. Harry smiled back. He didn't particularly want to spend the day with Fred, thinking about all the intimate attention that he got from their master but he was denied. But then again, Fred looked really good on a broom, and Harry never wanted to voluntarily miss an opportunity to fly with him.

With a sigh, Snape stood from the table and gathered his papers and letters. "You two will be careful not to go too deep into the west forest, won't you?" He asked with a pointed look at Fred, who just rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Master," Harry said a little too eagerly and Fred glanced at him with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

"I still don't know what kind of wildlife is roaming around in there – and besides, the property boundary is less marked in that direction. I don't want one of you to accidentally wander over and cause someone from the agency to pop up to investigate while I'm at work – they've been known to be overzealous."

Harry nodded, and Fred lifted his face to his master as he passed by on his way to the floo in the study. It was their usual custom after breakfast for Snape to lean down and kiss Fred, but for the first time he gave them each a squeeze on the shoulder and Fred an extra peck on the head. Fred just stared at his empty plate in thought for a long moment before shaking himself out of his deep contemplation. He pulled Harry up from the table and into the bright morning sun that was pouring in through the big back doors.

* * *

><p>In a field a few yards from the lake, Fred and Harry sat together on the grass, looking up at the sky. Harry was enjoying the pleasure of fresh wind and the calming drift of big spring clouds. It was a good spot, Harry thought, for a garden, even though he had no idea how to go about growing anything. It had made him think about Neville for the first time in years. Neville had been one of the few who had been chosen for release before the slave sale. Harry had been glad for him but wasn't sure if the death eaters had really released the selected few or just said they would and done something much more terrible. It had been obvious, despite his good disposition, that Neville hadn't been ranked high enough in value or desirability as a slave. Maybe someday Harry would get up the nerve to ask his master. Lucius would have beaten him unconscious if he'd asked about anything like that. But, for some reason, Harry thought Snape might tell him.<p>

The field was big enough, Fred had said, for several different plots – each designed for plants that grew well together. And it was on a little hill that looked down over the lake and through the trees you could see the house, which looked cheery and bright with the noon sun shining down on the windows. Harry rarely left Malfoy manor, but when he did he was always intimidated by the Gothic arches and barren grounds and boxy topiaries. Snape, on the other hand, had purchased a small country house far away from London and the ministry. Harry had only been there a few weeks, but he was already fond of his new home. It was a nice feeling, but a little unsettling too because Harry understood better than Fred, and perhaps even Snape, that a slave's security with their masters was entirely dependent on Lucius's will. It was he who could, if he wanted, disrupt the cozy bliss Fred and his master had formed. And, even if Harry was somehow allowed to join in their domesticity, it worried him that it might all get taken away when he least expected – things like that tended to happen to him, _the great abduction_ being the most cruel. Harry had never imagined that a life of slavery would be his reward after defeating Voldemort. But it was, and if there wasn't anything he could do about it, he would rather enjoy the pleasures awarded to him now.

"So," Fred said suddenly. He hadn't spoken much since breakfast except about the garden. "You seem a little bit better today."

Harry tried not to look at him. "I'm sorry if I was rude. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"That's okay. I have bad days too, sometimes."

They were quiet while Harry picked at the grass and Fred looked out over the grounds. They'd both worn their shorter robes because it was warm outside in the late June sun. Harry noticed that his skin was beginning to look a little brighter, but it was still unattractively pale.

"You know that you can talk to me about anything," said Fred. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to. But I just want you to know that I'm always here for you. I was hoping that we could be good friends – you know, the kind of friends that tell each other everything," he smiled sadly. "George and I were like that, and I miss it."

Harry looked at Fred's mournful expression. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't ready to share what had happened the night before, and he didn't think he knew how to talk about George without being overcome by the terrible memories of his not so distant past. Besides, he didn't think that he had anything to say to Fred that would make him feel better about losing his brother. George had not been handed the good luck that Fred had. But, Fred surely knew that already. So, instead of saying anything, Harry just lied down next to his fellow slave and scooted close until he could lay his cheek against his chest and wrap his arm around his middle. He felt brave enough today to touch Fred just because he wanted to. He had forgotten about his jealousy as he'd looked at Fred in the sunlight just now. His red hair made him look almost angelic, and his kind smile was transfixing.

After a moment's surprise, Fred returned the embrace with an arm around Harry's shoulder and another at his hip, which Harry unconsciously arched into.

It started as a friendly embrace, but as they lay there touching, Harry couldn't help but think about how warm Fred felt. And he wondered if Fred felt as good to touch under his robe as his master had.

* * *

><p>Aside from being the head of a potions department and a private supplier to the ministry, Snape was also in charge of a new department with full power over magical education. After the war Hogwarts had been temporarily closed, and when Lucius went back to the castle to renovate and re-open – despite his best efforts – the castle wouldn't let him or anyone else near it. It seemed that Hogwarts was angry at them, and rightly so.<p>

The discovery of Hogwarts's impenetrable state was one of the few bright spots for Snape during the ministry takeover. He hoped that if the council's efforts to overthrow the ministry were successful and if things began to go back to normal, the castle would let them in again. However, for now he was glad that it wouldn't let the students return. Snape didn't even want to think about how bad things could get if Lucius had power over a school full of impressionable young witches and wizards.

For now, the department of education was in charge of monitoring a scattering of ministry run schools across the country where mandatory daily classes were held in magical training – along with what could only be called brainwashing sessions designed to train students to accept and even defend the corrupt actions of the ministry. And, although Snape could do very little to stop it, he could make sure that the students were allowed to return home each night to parents who were hopefully working hard to undo the damage. In-home monitoring hadn't been mandated, yet. However, Snape knew that Lucius was more than capable of instating the law if he wanted to. He just didn't seem to think that it was necessary now that three years had passed without so much as a hint of resistance from the people. It was this quiet trust in his own supremacy that Snape hoped would be Lucius's downfall – just as it had been Voldemort's.

Snape pushed back from his big mahogany desk and wrapped the thick green potions bottle that he'd brought from home in his handkerchief and pushed it down into his inner robe pocket. He gathered up the rolls of parchment he'd finished signing and tied them neatly with a thick black band. He'd been sent a stack of trade agreements to approve from Draco, who was in charge of the department of international magical cooperation. Despite the wide spread international distrust and disapproval that hindered most trade agreements, Draco's superior charm had secured several orders for new magical textbooks manufactured in America and Australia.

Draco had – as planned at the last council meeting – been playing sick for the last few days to avoid coming into the office, thus assuring that Snape would need to deliver the papers directly to him. Draco had been suspicious that Lucius had set up a monitoring spell on his floo network after they had had a disagreement over an international exit visa for a Belgian witch who had been stuck in England ever since the ministry take-over and now wanted to return to her family and dying mother. It was nearly impossible to get in or out of the country, and the passes always required Lucius's signature. Until Draco and Ms. Granger could figure out how to dismantle the monitoring spell, it was safer if Snape had a reason to visit.

"I'll be gone for the rest of the day," Snape said shortly to his plump new secretary. She was a half-blood who had been hired when his previous assistant, an effective and pleasantly quiet woman, was fired when Lucius finally cleared the central ministry offices of all muggle born employees and relocated them to lesser and under-paid government positions such as school teachers or community assistants - or in some cases they were simply given a few months' wages and sent on their way.

Things were certainly not good for muggleborns under the new ministry, but it could be a lot worse, Snape realized. If Voldemort had won, it would have been genocide. Lucius on the other hand was taking a slow and subtle approach. He was taking the smart approach – not that it forgave his intent.

Under the present laws, new muggleborn children found to have magical ability in the United Kingdom were not allowed access to the magical community or magical schooling. Muggleborns currently living were allowed to go about their normal lives. However they were now only allowed to marry each other and were not allowed to reproduce. Half-blood and purebloods were not regulated in any way. However, they were awarded government financial assistance for every child born since the ministry take-over. More money for more pure-bloodedness, and the money increased substantially for each child in a family. It was, Severus had to admit, a clever way to begin slowly purifying the wizarding population. And it hadn't taken long for the plan to begin working. There were quite a lot of young children around lately, he'd noticed.

Severus took the jerky elevator up to Lucius's office and was immediately allowed in by his team of secretaries and guards.

"Hello, Severus. Lovely day," he said with an ironic smile. Pleasantries from Lucius were never genuine, and Snape knew it better than anyone. Fortunately, he was better than anyone else at playing along.

"Indeed. The greatest luxury you have provided me with, Lucius, is the freedom to never watch a Hogwarts quidditch match again on days such as this."

Lucius chuckled. "All right. What is it today?" He sat back in his chair and looked bored.

"I need to deliver some papers to Draco's home. I was informed that he is ill." Snape took out the roll and tapped them on the desk.

Lucius held out his hand casually for the papers which were perused perfunctory before handed back.

"I'm sorry, Severus, that you had to come all the way up here for such a small task. I've just worried so much about Draco lately." Lucius's fake concern made Snape's nose twitch in distaste.

"Just until he's feeling more himself, I want to make sure he isn't unnecessarily bothered."

Snape nodded. It hadn't surprised him when the floo guards at the ministry had told him that Lucius was requiring approval for all ministry related visits to Draco Malfoy. The man's obsessive control over his son was getting out of hand. But, Draco was sharp when it came to outwitting his father and securing enough privacy and freedom to participate in the council's extracurricular activities. Besides, with Hermione Granger's wit and intelligence and Snape's spy experience. Lucius and his best weasels were no match.

"Thank you. I understand completely. Your fatherly affection is quite inspiring," Snape said coolly.

Lucius just smiled and nodded to his guards to let Severus be on his way.

* * *

><p>After an afternoon spent lying in the sun and digging around in the dirt both Harry and Fred were filthy and in dire need of a shower.<p>

Harry unbuttoned his robe slowly and carefully as he was still nervous about preserving the precious clothes that his master had given to him. Fred however, had already ripped his robe over his head and thrown it in the hamper. Harry had found in just under a day that his new favorite things in life were kissing his master and looking at Fred's body.

Fred stood in front of the mirror and shook his hair out and ran his fingers through the sweaty and dusty locks. With one of the soft white cloths he wiped his face clean and then grinned when he noticed Harry sitting naked on his bed, awaiting his turn.

"You can come in with me," Fred said cheerily.

Harry blinked. He hadn't showered with Fred since the first day. Even after going out to fly, they usually took turns in the shower.

When Harry finally got up the nerve to get off the bed and walk across the room and pull back the curtain, he was shaking – a lot.

"Are you cold? I thought it was hot," said Fred who was washing his hair and grinning. Harry didn't say anything. He just looked Fred over and began thinking wonderful things about what Fred must feel like to their master when they're naked together. Harry's gaze lingered for a long time on Fred's long and beautiful cock. Harry wondered what it would look like if his master was here with them and had his hand on Fred – what it would feel like to have his master's hand on Harry – or maybe a hand on each of them. These thoughts had Harry getting hard despite himself, so he backed up and turned around to grab a bottle of mint scented soap.

Fred coughed. "Let me wash your hair, okay? I'm almost done anyway."

Harry just shrugged and let Fred do what he wanted. Fred's fingers were strong and sure when he ran them over Harry's head. With his eyes closed, Harry imagined the fingers were slow and running from his head to his neck and over his chest.

"There, done," Fred said, suddenly raspy, after he'd rinsed Harry's hair with the removable shower head. "I'll just go then and get dressed."

Harry turned around quickly and stepped closer to Fred until their fronts were almost touching.

"Thank you," he said with his mouth raised the way Fred always did for their master. Fred gaped at him and stared at his mouth as if Harry had just asked him some very difficult question. And just when Harry thought that Fred might actually kiss him, he turned and left Harry alone in the shower to wonder what the kiss would have felt like and if his master would have been angry at him for taking it without permission.

* * *

><p>The polyjuice potion looked tiny on Draco's dining room table as the three of them all leaned down and looked at it.<p>

Severus had only been with Draco and his slave – if you could call her that – a handful of times. Hermione Granger was, in Snape's opinion, so unlike a slave that it was strange to call her one. Most of the council members had agreed that it might be best to treat their slaves as expected because it would be nearly impossible to keep up appearances otherwise. It was obvious from the very beginning that a high ministry official's ability to properly keep a slave was directly reflectant upon his or her loyalty. Draco however, had never bothered with that. Miss Granger and he had always had a bit of a flirtation in the shadows of Hogwarts, but nothing had come of it to Snape's knowledge. Choosing her as his slave had not been a surprise to him, nor was their current lifestyle. The two lived cozily and quietly together without too much trouble. Hermione was decent at acting the part of slave when need be; however, Snape knew better than anyone that if you didn't live it every hour of every day, the performance was a difficult one of pull off. At Draco's few dinner parties there had been more than one joke about Draco's slave's willfulness and attitude.

"You are positive that the mediwitch will visit you at the end of the day?" Snape asked.

"She always does," said Hermione. "She's always whining about wanting to go home in time to listen to some wireless program she likes."

Draco nodded. "My father and I are always priority visits, so they send her to his slaves and then to Hermione. The rest of the slaves are scattered across the remaining week."

Snape nodded and took a deep breath. The first step in the plan was risky to say the least. If anything were to go wrong it would lead back to him. He was one of only a few people in the country with a ministry license to buy some of the ingredients in polyjuice potion. Dangerous and high risk potions were regulated now.

"Will it keep until next week?" Draco asked.

"Yes, of course it will," Hermione said with a huff. "You never did listen in class did you? You still don't."

Draco let the comment slide with a sharp but affectionate look at his slave as he picked up the little bottle. It was much less than Snape would have done if Fred had used that tone.

"I have a safe where I can keep it," Draco said. He held the bottle in his hand as if it were a fragile egg and carried it off down a long carpeted hall.

"How are you Miss Granger?" Snape asked simply.

"Fine, thanks." She wrapped her sweater around herself and hopped up on the kitchen table to sit with her feet tucked under her jean clad thighs. "Bored, mostly. But, I guess that won't be for long."

Snape nodded.

They didn't say anything again for a long time, and Snape began to wish that Draco would come back. He wanted to review their plan so he could get back to his own home – and his boys. He wanted to see Harry. He wanted to touch him and make sure he still had the boy's attention. He'd certainly had it last night and this morning. Harry had stared at him transfixed all during breakfast like he'd suddenly turned into a dancing hippogriff. He doubted Fred hadn't deduced that something had changed between them.

He also wanted to see Fred; he wanted to talk to him and reassure him. He wanted to make sure he still had Fred's attention too.

Hermione coughed. "I heard –"She glanced up at him before looking down to pick at a loose thread on her sweater. "I was wondering if – if Harry was all right?"

Snape observed her suddenly tensed posture. "He's well."

Hermione nodded. "I don't like to think about it too much because there really isn't anything I can do for him. But… but, I'm glad he's with you and not with - well, just not where he was before. I know from Draco what it must have been like for him." She said it all hurriedly and too quietly but Snape heard her. She wasn't happy that Harry was with him, not really. But, at least she recognized that he was better off.

"You _can_ help him. You're going to help save all your friends."

Hermione looked up and smiled a little.

"Sorry, I forgot the code," Draco said when he'd come back.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless." She hopped off the table, and Snape couldn't help but notice her purposely brush against Draco and earn a stroke along the waist.

"I must be going soon. I have spent more than enough time here to deliver papers." He cleared his throat. "However," Snape said slowly hoping he was making the right decision. "If you can be quite quick Ms. Granger, I think that a letter from you might be a welcome surprise to Harry."

Hermione's eyes widened in delight and her smile was almost infectious, although Snape resisted the urge.

"Thank you Professor Snape," she said before scurrying down the hall. She was only gone for a few minutes before she was back with a neatly folded piece of parchment. She was wise not seal the letter closed. As much as Snape trusted her, he would have had to open it first to read it. He knew all too well how dangerous secrets could be in this unstable environment. He said his goodbyes and took the floo directly home.

* * *

><p>Once he'd arrived home and made his way to dinner. Snape found that although he still had the attention of Harry, he no longer seemed to have all of it, for Harry spent as much time starting at Fred as he did staring at his master.<p>

For the most part none of them spoke much aside from a few polite comments about the quality of the food. And he and Fred had their regular exchange about the day's events, but when they had all finished Snape asked Harry to come to him in the study. He'd already spoken with Fred briefly about the evenings plans. Fred would meet him later in the master bedroom.

Harry followed him eagerly to the study and kneeled obediently on the rug next to the couch when Snape commanded him to.

"Sit quietly with me Harry while I read my briefs."

Harry smiled sweetly and laid his head on his knee while he flipped through the folder of briefings on the official ministry events of the day. Snape let his fingers comb through his slave's hair a few times while he read, earning him a near purring sound that went straight to his cock and made it difficult to sit poised while he finished his last bit of work for the day, but he managed. Snape realized suddenly that the old Harry, the Harry he had known at Hogwarts would have drawn a wand on him in a second to try and get these papers from him. But this Harry, his gentle and obedient slave, didn't even seem to notice and made him feel instead that he was more than content to just sit and be petted. And maybe he was, but somehow Snape wished that he would peak over his shoulder – just once – the way he had at the breakfast table. A bit of rebellious spirit certainly wouldn't be unwelcome when the climax of their rebellion was upon them. But for now, Snape didn't want to miss the opportunity to enjoy what he had.

Snape set the papers aside and dipped his hand under Harry's chin. Harry looked up at him intensely.

"Come up here."

Harry practically scurried onto the couch and kneeled expectantly next to him. Snape didn't waste much time before pulling his head down to deliver another long and thorough kiss that had Harry groaning in a deep soulful way and shivering. There was no doubt about it, Snape not only had his slave's attention, but he'd made the boy want him in a quarter of the time that he thought it might take –if it ever did. And, he certainly wasn't complaining.

Gently, Snape eased away from the kiss and moved Harry into a more comfortable sitting position with his legs curled up alongside him and Snape's arm wrapped around his shoulders. Harry laid his head down on his chest and sighed.

"Master?" Harry asked.

"Yes?"

"Do you like kissing me?"

Snape laughed, at the unexpected question and Harry looked up at him startled.

"What do you think?" He asked while gently guiding Harry's hand to his cock, which was hard and straining against his pants.

Harry grinned and rubbed him for a long time while they kissed. When Snape reached down and touched Harry in the same way, Harry almost fell back and off the couch.

"What is it?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was just startled. Lucius never," he faltered, wide eyed. "He never touched me back."

Snape shook his head but refrained from making any comments that might ruin the mood or startle Harry – who responded best to his calm and even temperament which wasn't too hard to relax into when he was around the boy.

"Well that's too bad for him," he said. "He was missing a treat." Snape rubbed him through the thin robe and delighted in the deepening of Harry's breath and shuddering moans.

"Just listen to you," he said. "I could come just from listening to you be pleasured." Harry gasped and moaned loader when Snape took the dive and reached under Harry's robe to stroke his bare cock in steady even strokes of the hand. Harry pressed his face into Snape's neck and tried to press kisses against his skin, but the sensations were overwhelming him, and all he could do was pump his hips into his master's hand and try to breath around his moans. His own hand had faltered and stopped moving on Snape's own body. Finally, when Snape swiped his finger across the head of Harry's cock and pulled hard and fast Harry's body tightened and shuddered and he came with a scream which made Snape want to pin him down and fuck him hard – but he didn't dare, not now, now yet.

When he finally came to himself, with his cheek against Snape's neck, he suddenly tensed and began to reach between them for his master's still hard cock that had been neglected in his distraction.

"Leave it, Harry," Snape said softly with a grasp at his wrist. "I only wanted to give you pleasure this evening."

"But master," Harry began questionably. "Please let me." He tucked his face against Snape's ear and said in a whisper that made Snape's resolve nearly crumble. "I want to. I'm very good with my mouth."

"I believe you," Snape said. "And, I look forward to you showing me. But not tonight."

Harry's eyes dropped in disappointment and rejection, and he tried to wiggle out of Snape's grasp and off his lap.

"I must spend time with Fred tonight, it is very important, and you promised not to be jealous. Were you lying to me?" Snape asked gently. He'd learned with Harry that it was sometimes better to help him be a good slave, even if his diligence was more than Snape would ever expect or require. However, it did relax Harry and make his role here seem welcome and well received. Harry was happiest if he thought that he was being as obedient as possible.

"I won't be jealous. I like Fred." He said. "I understand if you want him more." The words were simply said but the hurt and worry was clear in his eyes.

"It has nothing to do with wanting you more or less. I want you very much, but I have certain responsibilities to fulfill before I can take new steps with you. Do you understand?"

Harry thought about it for a minute. It always made Snape feel like smiling when Harry thought so seriously about his questions, as if a small fib might be instantly discovered.

"I think so, master."

* * *

><p>Snape led Harry back to his bedroom where he planned to give Harry his note. Snape had read it twice and cast a few spells to look for anything unexpectedly hidden in the parchment. He had to admit that Ms. Granger was smart enough to come up with something that might even slip by <em>his <em>over-cautiousness. But the note was not tampered with, and the words were not dangerous in any way.

"I saw Draco Malfoy today," he said when they were standing in front of the open door. He noticed that Fred wasn't there. He was probably waiting in the bedroom already. "I trust you know who young Mr. Malfoy's slave is?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, master. It's Hermione. Draco told me once that she was okay when Lucius wasn't paying attention."

"Well, I've brought you something that I hope you might like." He pulled out the note and handed it to Harry. Harry's eyes grew impossibly large and he very nearly snapped the paper from him.

"A note. You may write back tomorrow if you like/"

"Thank you, Master," Harry said brightly and with a smile even bigger than when he'd learned he could go flying. And judging from the way his hand was clutching the paper, he would be too occupied with thoughts of his friend to think too hard about being left alone for the night.

Snape knew after these last two days that this particular rejection must sting. But there was nothing to be done. Snape owed Fred an answer to a question that he'd had more than enough time to consider. Over the past week Fred had been increasingly anxious and for the first time since the night Snape had punished him, Fred had declined using the handcuffing spell during sex. The tension was beginning to get to him and Snape needed to make good on his promise. If he waited too much longer Fred would break down and demand an answer just to relieve the pressure of wondering.

"Sleep well," Snape said. He felt like a young man courting a lover as he stood at the door and kissed Harry gently. But then, courting Harry was proving to be a promising endeavor. For Fred, jumping him had been the best route. But this strange act of wooing his new slave had its own appeal – the boy was practically lovesick – and he liked it.

"Thank you, Master. I will." Harry lingered at the door with his letter at his side until Snape gave him a nod of dismissal and turned to go. He could just see Harry scurrying across the room to his bed where the lamplight would help him read what would be not only a bit of friendly news, but also the first step in what Snape hoped would be a reawakening of Harry Potter's fighting spirit.

Hermione Granger's letter was not ill timed, to say the least.

* * *

><p><em>Reviews have been, and will continue to be greatly appreciated! Thanks!<em>

_-poppypickford_


	7. Chapter 7

__**Story information, warnings and disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**__

__**A/N:**_ So, here it is. I can't even begin to tell you all how sorry I am about the wait. This is one of those unfortunate chapters that I found very difficult to write, during a time in which I had absolutely no time to write anything at all - personal drama/university starting. However, I am thrilled to have it finished and posted. _

_I should warn you that the chapter is currently un-beta'd, however I plan to update the chapter in the next few days when I have the edited copy ready. For now, I just wanted to get chapter seven posted, even in its rough form._

_I hope you enjoy reading this – finally. I promise to work very hard to cut the wait time down significantly next time._

_Thanks ;)_

_-poppypickford_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

_Dear Harry,_

_I wish I could write everything I've ever wanted to tell you, but I can't. Not yet at least. I've thought about you every day since they separated us. I know Draco told you that I was alright, but I want to tell you myself that I am well and as happy as I can be, under the circumstances. Draco is a good person and he loves me – don't laugh! Remember when you wondered why I would sneak out to study in the library every night? Well, I wasn't studying._

_Draco tried to spy on Malfoy manor during those years and find out how you were. I don't know much, of course. But I know that it must have been unbearable. I wish I could have helped you. Draco even tried to buy you from him, but Lucius wouldn't budge. I'm just glad that you finally got out of there and are with someone who doesn't want to hurt you – and Professor Snape doesn't, I truly believe that. I'm only able to write you this letter because Snape asked me to. I know you never liked him, but he's different now. He's not like the rest of them. If we could all go back to being like we were – free and happy and able to choose our own paths, I know you wouldn't think twice about him. But until we have all of those things again, know that he wants the best for you. He wants the best for all of us and I think he always did. _

_I know it must be hard to imagine it now when everything seems so hopeless. But we aren't powerless and the fight isn't over yet. Don't forget who you are – just a wizard who wants nothing more than to see a better world for those he loves. Lucius could never have taken that away from you, even though he must have tried. Although it might hurt, try to think about what Dumbledore would have told you if he was with you now. That's what I do when I feel like giving up, because I know Dumbledore would have never stood for it._

_I hope you like your new home. Draco says it's nice there and he says that Fred seems really happy. I bet you're both happy to have each other as friends. The twins always loved you rather a lot, I think._

_My wrist is starting to hurt from writing too fast, so I'll have to stop now._

_I love you, no matter what._

The letter, which had been increasingly difficult to read as it neared the bottom, was signed with a sloppy _Hermione_, which Harry touched with his finger. The parchment was already wet from his tears so he dropped it before the moisture blurred the ink, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

Harry wanted to write back immediately, until he realized that he had nothing at all to say. Hermione might believe in him, but it was hard to agree with her. He felt weak and small and terribly fragile most of the time. He didn't know how he could tell her that.

Harry gently picked up the letter from his coverlet and folded it along the creases. He opened the wardrobe doors and pulled out the smallest drawer on his side. He hadn't had anything to put in it, other than the little porcelain rose, that sat alone in the middle of the drawer. It was the only thing Harry was pretty sure belonged to him. Even if it had once been his master's cup, it was his magic that turned it. Fred's drawer on the other hand was over flowing with magazine clippings and empty potions bottles and things that might have been an experiment in toy making. It made Harry think of the joke shop, and Fred and George's knack for making things. Although without magic Fred couldn't do as much. _"The Master enchanted a unicorn I'd carved from wood to fly around on its own,"_ Fred had told Harry once when he'd noticed some of Fred's wood carvings. _"It would have been an excellent seller at Weasley's Wheezes."_

Harry pushed the rose to the side a bit and set the parchment down next to it. It was rare that Harry had anything that belonged only to him. Even his master's beautiful clothes and flying robes and brooms didn't really feel like Harry's. He was just borrowing them. But Hermione's letter was just for him and it made him smile.

Once in bed with the light off and the window open a little to let in the breeze, Harry thought about nothing but Hermione and his friends and although it made his eyes sting in regret, there was something unexpectedly comforting about letting his old memories wash over him for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. He fell asleep without even remembering to wonder what Fred and his master were doing all night without him.

* * *

><p>Fred was sitting in one of the big comfy chairs in the master bedroom with a book and a glass of hot milk that he'd asked the house elves for after he'd realized that it <em>was<em> possible to be jealous to distraction.

Ever since he'd woken up and seen the nervous expression on Harry's face, not to mention the more than blatant doe eyes he'd made at the master during breakfast, he'd known that something big had happened. And now, his master was off having time alone with Harry and Fred may never know what they were getting up to.

He took a sip of the milk. It was good, it had cinnamon in it.

The thing that made him especially crazy, he thought, as he curled his legs up under him and tossed his unread book on the chair across from him, was that Harry had been so innocent and charming and completely irresistible when he'd practically begged for Fred to kiss him in shower. It was all too confusing and it made his heart race and the back of his neck sweat. Before Harry it had been simple. Snape and him were the only people on the world, it seemed. And now Harry was mixing the pot and Fred couldn't decide if it excited him, or if it terrified him. He'd been so close to pinning Harry up against the shower wall that it surprised him he'd been able to break away. Self-control had never been his strength and it still wasn't.

A big splash of milk fell from the mug, which he was unconsciously tilting, and it landed on his thigh. He winced and wiped it off.

What would his master want to tell him? He'd wondered all day. This wasn't an invitation for sex, he didn't think. It was too formal for that. Fred rubbed the hot spot on his thigh and worried his lip. Maybe it was about _the question_ - the question he'd asked weeks ago and had been worrying about ever since. Every time his master looked at him strangely or was too quiet or spent the whole night alone, Fred would wonder what he was thinking. Maybe trying to please Fred in this new way was becoming too much for his master. Maybe he would begin to prefer Harry who was surely happy with the simplest of caresses and would never think of asking for darker more dangerous things. Maybe Fred was finally becoming too much trouble.

The door opened slowly and his master stepped inside. He looked around until he found Fred in the chair. Fred set his cup down and sat up straighter. He didn't really have anything to say so he just waited until he was given some instruction.

Snape smiled a little and then walked into the closet to take off his thick black vest, but not his shoes. It was all too formal. Nothing like the easy ways they normally approached each other behind these doors. Fred gulped and rubbed harder at the little burn on his thigh until it hurt even more.

With a silent sigh, Snape sat down and propped one foot upon his knee.

"Did you wait long?" He asked with feigned casualty.

"No," Fred said. And then with a shake of his head he added a clipped, "Master," to the end. His hands were shaking. There hadn't been so much seriousness between them since their first year together.

Snape nodded approvingly at Fred's addition. "I want to have this talk because I've noticed changes in you that I haven't liked."

Fred held his breath. Was this it? Was this where his master really did say that Fred was too much trouble? That he was too willful and headstrong and needy and demanding?

"I've left you wondering too long about the request you made of me, haven't I?"

Fred nodded slowly, and then shook his head in the negative. "I mean, no, master."

"I have. It hasn't been fair to you."

There didn't seem to be anything more to say about it, so Fred just tried to seem calm, despite the unsteadiness of his breath and what must be obvious shakes.

"I've told you before that the idea of striking you, in any way, is not something that I feel comfortable with."

Fred nodded enthusiastically. "I know master, just forget about -"

"Please don't speak until I'm finished." Snape interrupted sternly but in in that kind and calm voice that echoed the smile he'd given moments before. Fred nodded in agreement and bit the inside of his lip as a remembrance.

"You need not say anything more. I've thought about it, like I promised, and I have an answer that you cannot persuade me against now. I'm quite decided."

"I am more than aware of the power I have over you," he continued. "A power that is, I believe, a great responsibility I never expected to have, wanted, or agree with. However, the responsibility is mine all the same and I take it very seriously."

Fred wanted to agree with him, or compliment him, or reassure his master in some way of how grateful he is and how much he loves him, but instead he reminded himself to keep quite by biting harder on his lip until he started to taste metallic.

"This responsibility however is lost on most of those with slaves. They marvel at their control, but care little about the responsibility they have for those in their care. The beatings Lucius gave Harry were cruel, unwarranted and solely for the purpose of his own selfish entertainment and to reinforce his superiority. It is my fear of this mentality that makes what you have asked me nearly impossible to consider."

Fred felt the back of his eyes sting and his lip was quivering from holding back his protests and pleas to just forget all about his stupid thoughtless request. The more his master talked about it the more the idea seemed doubly perverse and wrong and he wished that he'd never even thought of it much less asked. He was too curious. He always had been, and that was usually what got him into the most trouble. He was going to lose his master, for sure.

Snape took a deep breath and leaned forward as if to recapture Fred's now wavering attention. His gaze was steady and calm and Fred couldn't help but trust it, even if his nerves were firing off so much nervous adrenaline that he wanted to run or throw up or anything – anything that would return him to that comfortable accepted place of only hours before. Suddenly, the Harry dilemma seemed completely trivial.

"I've decided to agree. I've decided to try it, Fred. Now you must calm down so that I can finish what I need to say."

With a snap of the head, Fred looked up in shock.

"I am not like Lucius. I don't want to ever hurt you. What I want is to make sure I have taken care of you during your time here with me, and if this is what you need, then I want to give it to you."

Fred was breathing hard when he whispered, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Snape said, but his tone was still formal and so intimidating in its seriousness that Fred couldn't get up the nerve to move towards him.

"There are conditions, however, that are not negotiable."

Fred nodded.

"I am not prepared to make this into a game," he said. "I will not consent unless I feel that it is under the proper conditions. You might think that these desires arise out of boredom and curiosity. But I know you well, and I think that there's more to it than that."

Fred blinked.

"If you feel like experimenting, there are other things we can do. If you feel that you need,"- he paused as if rolling the words around in his mouth - "reinforcement, than I will take it from there."

"Also, you must agree to submit to me completely or I will not continue. And finally, you need to know now to never confuse this with punishment. Even if it is at a time when you think I might be angry with you, you need to understand that I will never hit you as punishment. Never again." He looked Fred dead on. "Can you agree to these terms?"

Fred swallowed thickly and nodded one final time. His master knew better than anyone that Fred was often willful despite his best efforts at obedience and genuine desire for submission. It was in his nature to push the boundaries, even if he was more than comfortable within them.

Besides, his master seemed to understand things about his desires that he hadn't even been able to explain to himself. He knew that although he thought about the games they might play and the new feelings he would discover, it was really the deeper implications that aroused him. It was knowing that his master understood things about him that made a calmness settle in his stomach. When it came to his master, trusting was one of the easiest things Fred knew how to do.

"I agree, Master."

* * *

><p>"I thought you were through with me," Fred said miserably into his master's neck when they had finally caught their breath after a particularly emotional love-making.<p>

"Of course I'm not through with you," Snape said. "What gave you that idea?"

"I thought I'd asked too much of you, and that you'd decided Harry was less trouble."

Snape sighed and kissed the top of Fred's red head. "Have you already forgotten the promises I made you?"

Fred buried his head deeper into his master's shoulder and shook his head. "No, of course not. It's just so much harder than I thought it would be. Sharing you."

"I know. I think I may have underestimated how difficult this must be, for the both of you."

Fred sat up on his elbows and looked down at the other man who was casually stroking him along the side.

"Something happened, didn't it?" Fred asked, making a point to keep his tone more curious than accusatory.

Snape just looked at him for a long moment before answering. "Yes."

"You weren't going to tell me? Didn't you think I couldn't handle it?"

"This situation is difficult for me." He rubbed his hand over his eyes. "I don't quite know how to go about it."

"I'm not blind, you know. Anyone would have noticed the way Harry stares at you."

"The boy was never good at hiding his emotions," Snape said with a chuckle.

They lay together without saying anything despite the hundreds of questions that were running through Fred's head. Finally he settled on the most important of them all. "I don't need to be worried, do I?"

"Of course not," Snape said in a whisper. "It's not in my nature to spout endearments, but I do love you, very much. I hoped that giving you what you need - what you asked me for, would help you to trust my devotion."

Fred took a long deep breath and nodded. "It's like you said. This is new to me too."

In the quiet stillness and darkness of the late hour they fell asleep still wrapped around each other. Fred was exhausted from what was perhaps an overly aggressive fucking earlier in the evening. His master was becoming increasingly perceptive of when Fred needed to be distracted by the sheer physicality of sex. Although, Fred wasn't exactly difficult to read. He doubted the desperate whimpers he'd made, and scratches he'd left along his Master's sides were exactly vague hints.

This new phase of their relationship was going to be delicate, he thought, and Fred wanted nothing more than for Snape to be so pleased with him that he would continue to be a priority in his Master's now complicated life.

"Master," he said hesitantly.

"Uhmhmm," Snape hummed. The darkness of the room made it difficult for Fred to see more than the shadow of his Master's face.

"Will you tell me? Will you tell me before you do it?"

Snape grunted and rolled over. "What are you talking about? Before I do what?" His voice was gravely from sleep.

"Before you sleep with Harry."

Snape was still for a long time before he finally leaned up on one elbow to hover over Fred. The light from the window feel over his features, making him look shadowy and mysterious and unbelievably beautiful.

"Won't that make things harder for you?"

"No. I want to know so I don't have to wonder."

Snape eyed him intensely. "It's not fair is it?" he said in a strange distant sounding voice. "Do you wish that you could tell me not to do it?"

Fred shook his head slowly. "No. I would never do that. If Harry needs you half as much as I did, than it would be cruel for me to be so selfish."

"It's just acceptance and security he wants. He could have found that from any decent person."

Fred laughed and shook his head. "Don't be stupid. He wants _you_."

* * *

><p>A couple of days later and it was as if nothing had happened. Fred hadn't been introduced to the new experience he'd been promised, and Harry it seemed, hadn't had his new experience either.<p>

Fred and Harry had been working hard together on the garden, and had even managed to convince Snape to help them for a few hours on a Saturday since he knew more about where the plants should go, and which should or should not grow together. And other than gardening, their days were drudging by slowly and uneventfully. In fact, nothing too eventful must have been happening during Snape and Harry's nightly meetings because Harry always returned to their room looking bored and slightly disappointed.

One night Harry returned so late that Fred thought they must have been together, and that his master had just forgotten to tell him. However, instead of returning starry eyed and content, Harry wandered in with his head hung low and his glasses dangling down by his side as if he'd been wiping his eyes. He slept fitfully that night and had, at one point, stood up to pace, open and close drawers, re-wash his face, and stand by the window looking out at the warm dark sky.

Fred pretended to go on sleeping despite the noise, knowing that Harry was obviously looking for some solitude to think. Fred just wished he knew what his friend and roommate was thinking about to make him so distracted.

The next morning, just as Fred had started to forget about Harry's strange behavior and was about to brush his teeth, Harry began to cry in a quiet choking way from his bed. Fred looked over to find him staring blankly at the wall and trembling.

Fred dropped his toothbrush in the sink and went to sit behind Harry and put an arm around him.

"Hey, what's going on?"

"It's nothing," he choked. "Really. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. What's upset you? Did the house elves bring you a bad tea or something?" Fred asked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Snape had caught on quickly to Harry's particular delight in tea and began to send a small teapot up for them to share in the mornings. It usually made Harry smile stupidly, but this morning it seemed to have the opposite effect.

"No, of course not."

"Bad night sleep, then?" Fred knew this was part of the problem. Too little sleep could do a number on anyone's emotions.

Harry shook his head.

"Okay. Then, I don't know - did you just now realize what terrible company I am?"

Harry shook his head. "You always made me laugh," he said with a little smile. "And, no, I love being here with you."

Fred frowned at the past tense but decided not to mention it.

"You should tell me what it is, Harry. Remember what I said? I want us to be friends."

Harry turned around and looked at Fred with wide desperate eyes.

"Does he tell you things? The Master?"

"Well, I guess so. Some things."

"About me?"

Fred blinked at Harry and then sat back. In all truthfulness his master told him very little about Harry. Other than his promise to tell Fred when he intended to begin a proper sexual relationship with Harry, Fred knew next to nothing that he wasn't able to deduce for himself.

"Not really. I'm sorry. He's very private."

Harry thought about that for a while and then nodded.

"He doesn't want me and I don't know why," he said miserably, but with as much courage as he seemed to be able to muster in his now fragile state. He looked up at Fred. "Do you hate me, now? Do you hate me for being here when it was just you before?"

"No," Fred said. He'd thought about the possibility that he might start hating Harry for taking half of his master's time and emotions. It certainly wouldn't have been difficult to succumb to bitterness. But then he'd look at Harry and realize that it was impossible to hate him. Quite on the contrary, the more time he spent with Harry the more he loved him.

"I don't hate you for anything. Of course I don't." Fred smiled and pet Harry across the soft tussled hair above his ear. "I had six siblings so I'm pretty good at sharing." Now he found himself stroking back and forth over Harry's goose-pimpled arm. "Besides, I know how happy he's made me, and I hope it'll be the same for you."

Harry nodded but ducked his head and started to wipe aggressively at his eyes as if trying to push the tears back in.

"Why do you think he doesn't want you?"

"Last night was the fifth time I've offered myself to him and he keeps saying no."

Fred thought about this for a minute. "Does he say no, or does he say that he wants to wait?"

Harry shrugged. "What's the difference?"

"There's a lot of difference. He and I lived together and were very close without having sex for months."

"Really?"

"Yes. And I'm not saying that's what he thinks is best for you. I just know he never rushes anything. Especially something good."

Harry looked at Fred wonderingly and then reached over and laid his fingers against Fred's brow. Gently, he ran his fingers over Fred's cheek bones and nose. And then finally, with his eyes fixed unblinkingly on his mouth, Harry ran his finger over the seam of Fred's slightly parted lips. Fred stayed perfectly still and resisted the urge to take the curious digit in his mouth and taste him.

"You're so much more beautiful than me," Harry said in a whisper. "How could he want me when he has you any time and any way he wants?" He said it all as if to himself. As if Fred couldn't hear his words. With a sigh he dropped his finger and began to move off the bed.

"Harry, wait." Fred grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, and this time he fell a little closer to Fred, so that their knees were touching and he could see the little droplets of dried moisture on Harry's cheeks.

"Do you really not know how appealing you are?" he asked incredulously.

Harry frowned at him. "I'm skinny and short and clumsy and -" Harry shook his head in disagreement. "Lucius told me all the time."

"He's just a blind bastard." He looked Harry over again from the top of his unruly bed-tussled hair to his small pink-swollen lips and right down to the delicately muscled thighs that peaked out from under his robe. Fred didn't even want to think about the rest of his body that he occasionally had the pleasure of seeing.

"I promise that he wants you very much."

Harry's eyes widened hopefully.

"He's told me before - a long time ago." Fred couldn't stop looking at Harry's mouth, which was open just enough to see in and glimpse the end of what looked to be a particularly alluring tongue. "We both do."

But before Fred could take back his words, or shake the trance of being so close and so intimate with the other boy, he had already leaned in and placed his lips against Harry, who gasped and moaned before pressing back into Fred's embrace. But it only took them a few seconds before they broke away – startled, wide eyed, and guilty.

"Shit. I'm sorry, Harry," Fred said as he stood up and backed away. "That was my fault."

Harry was trembling again. "It's against the rules, isn't it?"

Fred looked to the door where he could hear his Master going down the stairs to breakfast. They would be expected soon.

"I don't know."

* * *

><p><strong><em>Reviews have been, and will continue to be greatly appreciated! Thanks!<em>**

_-poppypickford_


	8. Chapter 8

__**Story information, warnings and disclaimer can be found in the first chapter.**__

___**A/N:**_ _I know, I know. If you want to throw tomatoes (or pipe bombs) at me, I'll give you my address. You may have thought that I abandoned this story, and I certainly wouldn't blame you. _

_When I returned to university this year I was presented with the opportunity to work on a novel-length research-based creative project in order to receive departmental honors. It was a great opportunity, but it also means that I have been so absorbed and focused that my ability to diverge was nearly impossible. Additionally I had a lovely bombardment of personal dilemmas to complicate matters. I can't promise to be too prolific for the next month or two, but I have sparked a flame under my own bum and I'm truly excited to write the content in the next chapter, so maybe you'll see something soon – MUCH sooner for sure than the last._

_I just want to assure those readers who are graciously coming back for more, despite the terrible delay, that I am not, and WILL NOT abandon the story. It is a love child that I would mourn if I didn't see it to completion. _

_Also, you know how I said that this story is primarily Snarry? Well… you may have already noticed that Snape and Fred's relationship is, and will continue to be of massive significance as well. _

_Thanks again, and I hope you enjoy the chapter despite the misgivings of this writer :)_

_-poppypickford  
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* * *

><p>Harry had fallen to his knees at the side of the bed when Fred moved away. He was staring at Fred's mouth so intently that Fred doubted Harry's thoughts had strayed too far. Fred looked to the door again and began to think about what to do now, when -<p>

"Kiss me again," Harry said. Fred sighed and held onto the doorknob behind him. Harry looked good like that, kneeling on the floor near Fred's feet. He wondered if this is the way his master always felt.

"I shouldn't."

"Please," he whispered. "Don't you want me?" He sounded so weak, desperate, and pathetically broken that it made Fred's heart weep.

Fred closed his eyes. Snape knew what Fred wanted and gave it to him as best he could, and his recent promise was firm proof of that. And yet, even if Fred was used to getting what he desired, he knew that this was something he wasn't allowed to just take.

With a frustrated sound, Harry stood and moved to press against Fred, close, with his back to the door.

"You do, don't you?" Harry's eyes were greener than Fred ever remembered and he could see the moisture from his own tongue still on Harry's mouth. He licked his lips.

"Yes."

Harry grinned and leaned in for another kiss, this one more desperate and deep than the first and it made Fred's head fuzzy with desire. Harry whimpered and clutched at him and his still too thin body felt firm yet delicate beneath his hands. It was intoxicating.

With all of the stimulation of his senses, Fred was starting to feel more and more dizzy. Every time he thought about pulling away, Harry would moan just so and his brain would short circuit. His cock was swelling and Harry was slowly pressing his thigh against him until he couldn't help but thrust.

"Stop," Fred said with a small shove, but Harry didn't seem to hear. Instead he pressed his lips to Fred's neck and started sucking. Fred gasped. In the distance he heard a door shut and it made him jump. They needed to stop. Now.

"Harry, please." Fred tried to push on Harry's shoulders but instead of moving away he pressed his hand to Fred's cock through the slave robe. Fred jerked away and shoved the other boy to the floor.

His breathing was coming in quick hard gasps. What had he done?

He looked up at Harry, who was crying in frantic sucking breaths and chanting "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Harry, please. Calm down."

"I don't know why I did it." He sobbed miserably and buried his face into the bed covers. "I've ruined everything, haven't I?"

"I'm going to go downstairs. I have to tell him."

"No! You can't!" Harry said frantically, reaching across the space to grab at Fred's arm.

Fred gently lifted off the clutching fingers. "You know we have to." His voice was low and trembling, still slightly heated from arousal. "I don't want to keep secrets from him. I can't. And you don't either. Think about it."

From the floor where he was kneeling at Fred's feet Harry shook his head side to side slowly. His eyes were red and watering and his lips trembled. "What chance do I have, Fred? What chance do I have if you tell him?"

It was a strange sensation, Fred thought, as if he were the master and Harry the slave, kneeling at his feet and begging. He crouched down and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"You have to calm down." Although what he really needed was someone telling him the same thing. He needed desperately to kneel at his master's feet and be ordered to stay calm. But he didn't have that luxury now.

"What will he do?"

"I don't know. But we aren't going to find out if we stay here."

* * *

><p>The unconscious ministry appointed slave mediwitch still lay on the floor in Draco's kitchen, just below where Hermione sat, swinging her legs gleefully over her. If, every once in a while, her shoes knocked the woman across her thick chin, it certainly wasn't because the woman hadn't even bothered to apologize when she'd poked Hermione hard with her wand while checking for internal injuries – "Don't whine so," she'd said. "You'd think you'd never been hit once in your life."<p>

"How do I look," Draco asked as he nervously shifted from foot to foot in front of the mirror that hung along the big wall in the dining room. He was running his hands over his new brown curls and thick curves that rolled over the waist band of the white medical skirt.

"You look fine, stop fussing," Hermione said before hopping over the sprawling woman and strolling into the attached kitchen where she poured Draco a glass of water from a pitcher in the fridge. "Here," she said, trying not to look into his face. It was too strange. He didn't look like her master – lover – boyfriend? No, none of those words worked. But the point was that he didn't look like himself. He looked like the mean snippy woman who came twice a year to berate her, poke her and examine her in some of the most humiliating ways imaginable. "Drink something. You're still cringing from the polyjuice."

"Thanks."

"Do you have everything you need? Do you want to go over the list of spells again and make sure you memorized them?"

Draco sighed. His voice was too high pitched and sounded strange. "I memorized them Hermione. How could I not, you kept me up for four hours reviewing."

"Well, we can't risk having a written script. And we both know that you're forgetful."

Draco reached down and tied his white shoes and straightened his ugly too-pale stockings.

"So, what's the first hex you have lined up for me when you get your wand back?" Draco asked with a nervous glance over his shoulder.

Hermione grinned slyly. "No," she said. "Not a hex. But, there are some spells that we were both fond of using on each other at Hogwarts."

Draco straightened up with a look of surprise.

"Although, I'd really rather not talk about sex while you look like a woman." She took the water glass from Draco's hand and handed him the bag of floo powder. "At least not while you look like _that_ woman."

* * *

><p>It took only a few minutes for Fred to get up the courage to go speak with his master. He left Harry huddled on his bed, still whimpering. If Harry wasn't here, if the other more fragile boy had never come, it would have been Fred hiding in that room, shell shocked, confused, and terrified. Although, if Harry had never come than he would never have wanted to kiss him, and he would never have felt as though he'd betrayed his master.<p>

Fred stopped at the top of the stairs and held on to the banister, white knuckled and trembling as he caught his breath. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before, but he knew instinctively, in the very core of his submission that this wasn't a secret he wanted to keep, not even for a moment.

Fred looked into the dining room and found it empty, so he knocked on the library door. The door opened a moment later with a swish of magic that revealed his master, sitting inside pouring over a stack of letters from the ministry. His wand was clutched lazily in one hand while the other, stained black around the finger nails from too much ink, was supporting his head and shielding his eyes from the early morning light.

"What is it Fred? Breakfast is in ten minutes, is it not? It couldn't wait?" His tone was sharp and irritated. Fred felt a shiver go through him that made his skin heat uncomfortably and his heart race.

Without saying anything he walked over to his still distracted master and sank to kneel in the lowest, most submissive pose he knew. It was one he'd learned from Harry. He'd never kneeled quite like this for this master before but he didn't know what else to do. This seemed like as good a plan as any.

Snape's chair scraped across the wood and Fred could see the tips of his master's boots just in front of his nose.

"Master, I've come to beg forgiveness."

Snape was silent for a long moment. Too long. "What has happened?" His tone was stern. "Sit up. Look at me."

Fred pulled his knees under him and sat up on his heels. "I kissed Harry."

Snape's eyes widened and he sat back in his chair. He laid his wand aside delicately and then wiped his ink stained hand across his eyes and massaged his temples.

"When? Last night?"

"No, master. Just now."

Fred rang his hands into the fabric of his robe.

"He was crying and I was trying to comfort him and… It was foolishness. Please, master. Please just punish me."

Snape snorted. "Go upstairs Fred. Now. I need to think." He turned back to his papers again, put his hand back over his eyes and began to read as if nothing had happened.

"Please master. When –"

"I said go. Now." Snape snapped. "You don't get to ask questions."

Fred nodded and got to his feet. He barely made it up the stairs before he sank to the floor and held himself, shaking. It might not be what his master had ordered, but he didn't care. Somehow he couldn't bear the thought of Snape seeing them together, alone in the slave room.

* * *

><p>When Snape finally came up stairs, Fred had cried twice and had thought once of going in to check on Harry who was more than likely in a dangerous panic. Although, at the moment he really wasn't in a position to make the matter any better.<p>

"Why are you in the hall?" Snape asked from above him. He suddenly looked terribly tall and dark and intimidating to Fred who had never had to fear his displeasure quite like this before. "I thought you would want to be with Harry."

Fred shook his head. "No, master." It was the truth.

"Where is he?" Snape asked.

"In the bedroom. He's terrified."

Snape nodded. "Come with me," he said and then walked away. Fred stood, straightened his robe quickly, and then followed. When he caught up Snape had just opened the door, but instead of looking inside he was staring at Fred expectantly. Fred looked at his master desperately and then slipped by, his heart beating even faster. Harry must have fallen to the floor as soon as the door opened because he was now kneeling and shaking in the same pose Fred had used earlier. Although even in this state, Harry's form was significantly better.

"I must say, that I do not appreciate all of this groveling." Snape said with real irritation. "You both act as if you expect me to snap your necks over, unless I have been misinformed, what was merely a kiss." He looked at Fred and then at Harry who had sat up on his feet and was looking at Snape with a trembling lip. "Have I? Been misinformed, Fred? Harry?"

Harry was shaking. Snape looked over at him sharply, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Harry? Do you have something more to tell me?"

Fred watched as Harry's eyes began to water again and his body clutched tight it panic. He was gaping like a fish and glancing nervously at Fred as he prepared to confess and take the fault for every gruesome detail of those few foolish minutes.

"I touched him, Master," Fred said suddenly. "Intimately. I know I shouldn't have and I'm sorry." Harry looked over at him with a gasp. They had been truthful enough for one day. His master didn't need to know who'd touched whom first. Besides, he could bare the brunt of his Master's disappointment better – at least he hoped so. "That's what he's trying to tell you," Fred said. "It's not his fault that I did it, so please don't punish him."

Snape laughed. "Such loyalty to each other. I can see now that I have missed quite the little romance blossoming." His tone was bitter and jealous, but not as dangerous as it had seemed to Fred when he'd been ordered out of the room.

"You're wrong, master," Fred, said as evenly and calmly as he could muster. "I care about Harry. You know I do. But please don't accuse us of sneaking around behind your back. This has never happened before. We didn't plan it."

Snape's eyes narrowed and he looked between them again. "I'm possessive, and I am prepared to admit to it. But I fear I must be much more threatening than I had thought. Did you think I would take hot irons to you? Burn my name into you?" He rubbed at his forehead once more and his breath was too heavy. Fred shifted on his knees and tried to wait with his eyes forward and his nerves steady, but he couldn't stand the silence for long.

"What do you need -" Fred began.

"Do not speak," Snape said. "I've heard enough. And do not misunderstand me. I own you," he snapped with more ferocity than Fred could ever remember and it made him shiver. "I own both of you, and I urge you to remember that." Snape stared at Fred as he said this.

Harry, Snape knew, didn't need reminding. No, it was Fred he was speaking to. Fred, his beloved slave, who sometimes forgot that Snape was anything more than his loving, if not domineering, lover.

"If you wanted to be with each other," Snape said slowly, his voice controlling some deeply suppressed emotion. "You need only have asked me." Harry looked over at Fred in shock but Fred refused to move his steady all-attention-on-you gaze from his master.

"But I will not allow this to go on behind my back." His gaze swept between them and the power of his dominance in that moment made Fred so hot and hard that he shifted uncomfortably. "Do not defy me on this again, or the consequences will be severe. I will approach the subject again, with both of you, tomorrow night. For now, I want Fred to sleep in the guest bedroom." He looked at Fred pointedly. "I have more to worry about today than I can manage and wondering what your loyalties are will not be one of them."

Fred wanted to say something. He wanted to shout and clutch at his master's robes and beg him to understand that his loyalty to Snape was as unfaltering as ever. But instead, Fred just nodded once and shielded his eyes submissively. He had gotten himself into this, and he had to deal with the consequences. He only wished, as he'd done before, that his master was the type who would whip him until both their frustration was stated and forgiveness was possible. But, he wasn't.

"I won't see you for the rest of the day. I have much to do, and I may be out very late. I expect you both to stay in your separate rooms until you receive further instruction."

Harry was still shivering nervously beside him, but Fred turned his head just enough so that he couldn't see the other boy. It was too tempting to just reach over and put a calming hand on his shoulder like he might have done before.

"Fred, go now to the guest bedroom. I need to speak with Harry."

He nodded, stood, and left, all the while trying not to feel terribly jealous that Harry was getting attention from his master at this moment when he was desperate for any kind of contact, even if it was dangerous, angry and even violent.

* * *

><p>"You're still frightened of me, Harry?" Snape said, trying to gentle his voice to the low soothing register that always calmed Harry, but it came out too rough to be comforting.<p>

"No, master."

"Then why are you quivering, have I ever given the impression that I would hit you?"

Harry shook his head and took a deep breath, then shook his head again more forcefully.

"I'm sorry I displeased you, master."

"I know. I knew you were when Fred told me and I hadn't even seen you yet."

Harry nodded.

"Come here."

Harry stood on his naked wobbly legs and walked over to stand before Snape, closer than he would have ever dared in his first few week here. But now, the boy was gravitating closer and closer to him.

Snape put his hand firmly on Harry's shoulder and squeezed, then leaned over and kissed the side of his jaw. Harry quickly turned his head to try and offer his lips but Snape moved away.

"You have already been forgiven for this Harry. But I still need you to take the time to think. I need you to think hard and be prepared to tell me what it is you want. I will protect you at all costs, but my protection can come in many forms. I need to know what you desire of me. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded and with one final squeeze to the shoulder Snape left the room and headed downstairs where his outer robes and briefcase were already packed and waiting to go. He needed to see Draco, he hadn't heard anything to suggest that their small but terrifyingly important mission had gone badly the night before, but until he reached the other man's secured apartment there was no way for him to know anything for sure.

When he passed the guest room on the way to his study, he expected to see Fred waiting at the doorway hoping to intercept him as he'd done earlier. But instead he found the door securely shut. If he'd been in the hallway Snape would have spoken to him in much the same way as he had with Harry, although he couldn't be sure that he would remain quite so calm. The betrayal of Fred's loyalty stung deep. Snape leaned against the wall next to the door and dug his fingers deep into his eyes until they hurt. He just hoped that Fred's temper as well as his own would improve before they spoke. Snape still wasn't completely prepared to approach what he would have to do otherwise.

* * *

><p>Severus nervously rubbed at the side of his briefcase as he stood in front of his fireplace, floo powder at the ready. It was a risk. He couldn't conceal a wand without potentially causing it harm.<p>

When he stepped out on the other side he took a great sigh of relief to see Draco waiting for him with that smug smile he often sported.

"You look pleased. It went well?" He asked.

Draco nodded. "It went off without a hitch."

"And the mediwitch? Does she suspect anything?"

"No. I altered her memory and she went home to listen to her wireless programs. Happy as a lark."

Severus nodded, still taking deep calming breaths. This step was crucial, and dangerous.

The plan was a simple one, but the execution was complicated. However, thanks to Hermione who had endless amounts of time on her hands, the logistics were well researched by one of the only students Severus could begrudgingly rank with or above himself as a researcher and problem solver.

The idea was that if the council wanted to create a stir and rally forces against the ministry while simultaneously keeping the slaves as safe as possible, the slave monitoring system would have to be rigged. Currently, a network of incredibly complicated spells kept every slave monitored at the ministry slave office. The system was incorporated into a device not unlike a muggle computer that could at any moment mark the location of a slave and give a reading of their magical power levels.

In addition to the tracking devises that were woven into the slave marks, there was also a set of spells that made it technically impossible for slaves to feel propelled to seriously harm their masters. This was one spell that most slaves knew nothing about. Snape, for one, had never gotten up the nerve to talk to Fred about it. Somehow he worried that Fred might begin to wonder what other spells were cast on him if this one could so easily control his thoughts. Were there spells to make him love his master? There weren't, of course. But Snape didn't want Fred to doubt what they had.

The other spells were commonly shared so that slaves never got it into their head's that running away would be possible. If there were any indication that a slave was exiting his master's property without express ministry permission, an agent would apparate to them within minutes and the consequences, Snape imagined, would not be pleasant.

What Hermione devised, then, was a complicated override on the slave tracking system that created a fog screen, so to speak, between the system and the slave-tracking spell. The tracking spell itself couldn't be deleted unless the physical marks were removed. There were nearly six witches and wizards in the council, not to mention Hermione, who had been working on that for years now, with very little success. Only Lucius, Snape suspected, knew how to completely remove the marks.

The monitoring system, however, was fundamentally muggle technology that even the ministry didn't completely understand. Therefore, Hermione reasoned that a program override could make it appear that any given slave was not crossing their property boundary, or using magic, when in fact they were.

"Have you tried it out?" Snape asked, looking around for Hermione.

"She's sleeping. She stayed up all night doing more research on the mark."

"Any progress?"

"No. There never is. But she's obsessed with it."

"How did last night go?"

"It went as well as it could, I guess. Hermione drilled me on the spell for three days straight. It was hard to miss." Draco chuckled and stuck his hands into his pockets. "If anyone pays too much attention they might notice a bit of trend in the way Hermione moves around the property. Bedroom, kitchen, living room, bathroom, repeat." He shrugged. "But, I'm pretty sure after six years those monitor witches just sit around reading magazines and ignoring the program unless an alert pops up.

Snape nodded. Draco was right. The ministry was getting quite slack in how closely they monitored the slaves. In the last three years there hadn't been any runaway attempts and only a handful of minor magical spikes that were written off as emotional outbursts. Why should they waste too much time worrying about what seemed to be a well-oiled machine? At least, that's what the council was counting on. It was crucial to not just succeed in freeing the slaves, but also in overturning the ministry. The first would not last without the other.

Snape could only imagine with horror the state dozens of newly freed slaves would be in immediately after being rereleased into society where their families were not only unprepared to protect them, but didn't even know they were alive. The ministry would have them recaptured, or more likely dead within a few days.

No, if there was to be a freeing of the slaves it would have to be a surprise, on mass scale, and almost simultaneous with heavy warfare against the ministry. The council all agreed on this point, it was just the dangerously tricky logistics and timing that no one seemed to agree on.

It was an unfortunately drastic step to take, but it would be affective. Now that Hermione was off the radar of the slave monitors, it was possible for Snape to return her wand. Of course, like with every bold move they were forced to make in this battle, it was a dangerous one, especially when Draco was under such close surveillance by his father. But if anyone was capable of treating this situation delicately and with the utmost caution, it was Hermione. Few were more dedicated to slave emancipation.

With her wand, Hermione was now able to excel at her research, test her theories, and generally return to her potential. Snape knew that she was their best hope of finding a reversal to the slave mark. He only wished that the rest of the council was in agreement - having a young slave in such an important position had not gone over well.

"Shouldn't you wake her?" Snape asked as he pulled the wand from his coat pocket and placed it on the table. "I think she may be anxious to have her wand returned."

Draco ran his hand through his hair and nodded. "Yeah."

"Problem, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked with a furrowed brow when Draco remained standing, looking down at the wand.

"It's just all going to be so different, now." He said quietly.

"Will it?" He asked. "I was lead to believe that you and Miss Granger had a fairly average relationship. How will her wand change that?"

"It will, I think." He said solemnly. "She won't need me anymore."

Snape stood up straighter and looked down at his young friend. "If she loves you it shouldn't matter."

Draco shook his head. "No, no. She loves me. I know she does. It's just been nice having her really need me, even to do the littlest things like cast detangling spells on her hair." He chuckled. "I guess I liked taking care of her. It probably sounds stupid, or wrong, or something."

Snape said nothing for a while, and just stared down at the wand. "It doesn't sound wrong at all. Having someone in your care is addicting. I understand well."

Draco looked up. "I bet you're a good master," he said quietly, in a whisper even. Snape had long suspected that Draco and Hermione sometimes played at their roles of master and slave. For Draco it could only feel good. But for Hermione it must come alongside a sense of shame and quiet self-loathing.

"No. Not so good at all. I left my boys at odds with me," he said. "And each other, I imagine."

Draco looked as if he were about to inquire when Hermione came into the hall, her eyes puffy and tired and her hair abnormally large and disheveled. As soon as she saw Snape her eyes grew wide and she dashed to the table so fast that she knocked over a chair and nearly tipped the wand onto the tiles.

"Careful, Hermione." Draco said, with a chuckle. "It's not going to just disappear."

Hermione grasped the wand against her chest and took several deep breaths. "You never know Draco, it might."

* * *

><p>Snape accepted a dinner invitation at Draco's after having worked for several hours going over plans for the next several steps in their proposed mission, as they would present it to the council in only a few days. Being at his own home knowing that Fred and Harry were a simple twist of a doorknob away would be too distracting. He might be tempted to forgive them for everything they did or could have done and take them into his arms. And yet, just thinking of them together made his blood boil.<p>

Snape shook his head and reached for his glass of wine. Draco looked at him quizzically over a plate of roasted chicken.

"Draco says there aren't any promising new prospects in your research Hermione, but I imagine you'll have some better luck now," Snape asked.

Hermione nodded. "I hope so. But even with a wand I can't simply find the right answer unless I know where to look. There must be a book somewhere, but my research accessibility is more limited now than it has ever been. The wand doesn't change that fact, I'm afraid. And I am beginning to fear that the proper book might only be in Malfoy manor, or Hogwarts," she shrugged. "And until Hogwarts reveals itself again the latter is an impossible option."

A few days after the death-eater abduction and overthrow, and in the midst of the chaos and emotional trauma of the wizarding nation as they came to terms with their defeat and helplessness, Lucius had returned to Hogwarts with plans to begin a massive confiscation of the important contents. After which he intended to stage a catastrophic demolition. However he found instead that the castle had disappeared as if it had never been there at all. If approaching the forbidden forest, you would suddenly find yourself exiting on the opposite border. It was as if the entire property had blinked out of existence and been swallowed up along a thin indistinguishable seam in the earth.

Severus had been assigned to investigate and was happy to report that it was all completely true. Hogwarts was gone. However, he suspected it wasn't gone so much as hiding, awaiting the opportunity to safely reappear. Its disappearance, however, had long been one of Lucius's greatest anxieties as if it might rise up out of the ground with a mind of its own to crush him. Severus only wished that it were as easy as that.

Draco nodded. "It's possible. However, most of the books in our library have sisters in other places. There are only a few I can think of that were unique."

Snape sighed and took another sip of Syrah.

"Professor?" Hermione asked slowly. "I know that Harry must still be," she paused, "adjusting after living with Lucius, but -" She looked at Draco for help.

"Hermione just wonders, Severus, if Harry might know something."

"What could he possibly know? Do you really think that Lucius Malfoy would talk about such a delicate subject with his slaves?"

Draco shrugged. "You're probably right, but you never know. We're feeling desperate now and we don't want to leave any boxes unchecked. Could you at least ask him?"

Snape thought about this. Speaking to Harry would not only be asking him to drudge up old and painful memories, but it would also mean having to reveal more to Harry about his work than he was completely comfortable with at this early stage.

"If Miss Granger cannot make new headway now that she has her wand then approach me again and I will speak with Harry. The whole point of yesterday's quite dangerous mission was to give her the ability to better research what she has access to. "

Hermione sighed and nodded. "I'm just so anxious for something to at least point me in the right direction." Draco put his hand on her hers over the table.

"How about you Severus? Is everything going well with Harry? With Fred?"

"In general, yes. Harry is adapting fairly well, although he's still concerningly skittish about some things."

"Obviously," Hermione said over her wine. Draco sent her a stern look, which she ignored.

"You said something earlier, didn't you?" Draco asked. Snape glanced at Hermione. He wouldn't mind Draco's opinion on the matter, but his fiercely opinionated former student was hardly someone he wanted to divulge some of his most private problems with. He didn't doubt that she would probably leap over the table and strangle him if she heard the word _punishment_.

"I bet you want to jump right back into research, don't you Hermione? Get used to having your wand back?" Draco suggested. Hermione rolled her eyes and slid out of her chair.

"Why don't you just order me to my room? It would waste less breath." She slouched out of the room with her wand firmly held at her side as Snape always remembered seeing her. They waited until they heard a door shut somewhere in the back of the apartment before beginning.

Snape told Draco about the situation, briefly, and with only enough details to get his troubles across. Somehow, he didn't anticipate how terrible he would feel all over again.

"It must be hard on him," Draco said.

"Yes, Harry is very confused right now. I'm trying to be especially easy on him."

"Well that's true as well, but he isn't who I was thinking about. I meant Fred."

Snape looked up with furrowed brow. "Fred knows better. After all he's been through I can hardly blame Harry for accepting what comfort is given, especially with such an appealing young friend." Snape cleared his throat and wiped at his brow. "But I struggle to understand why Fred did this to me. You can't possibly know how much I've given to him, how much I have agreed to give him, and this is the thanks I get."

"I don't pretend to know your relationships as well as you do. But, didn't you say that you've been pursuing Harry. Did you mean – sexually?" Draco blushed.

"I don't deny it. But I'm not a selfish man. I wouldn't touch Harry if I thought he didn't wish it of me."

"I know that. I just mean that it must be much harder than you think for Fred – imagining you with Harry. Away where he can't see you and where he doesn't know what you say, or do, or feel."

Snape closed his eyes and held back a grimace. It wasn't as if he'd never thought about this, and they had talked about it more than once. But hearing it from Draco made it all so much more real and complicated and terribly terribly unfair.

"It must kill him. People do stupid rash things when their whole world has been turned upside down."

Snape held his hand over his aching eyes. "You're right of course. I've been going about this all wrong, haven't I?"

"I don't know. Only you can know that. But I do know when you do something wrong you are more than capable of fixing it." He chuckled. "Don't work yourself up too much. You have a difficult situation to maintain, no one could do it perfectly." Draco sat quietly for a while, his foot propped up on one knee and twirling his wine, looking pensive. "Maybe there's something you can do to reassure him?" He pondered.

Snape looked up over the fingers massaging his temples and took a shuddering breath. "There is," he whispered. _I just wish the idea didn't make me feel as though I was coming apart at the seams. _

* * *

><p>Fred was huddled on top of the blankets in the guest bedroom. The bed was too big, like his master's, where he'd never before slept without the warm strong presence beside him. The empty space felt cold like a constant reminder of the icy disappointment in his master's eyes that morning.<p>

He'd only nibbled at the lunch the house elves brought him. It was big and hot and better than he'd expected, and it made him guilty. For dinner he refused the tray of hot potato soup and just returned to the cold leftovers. After that he sat down by the door and waited to hear Snape coming in from the floo. He would have to walk past this door to get to the stairs. Sometime later he fell asleep from the exhaustion of crying and awoke to a dark shadowy room. He'd sniffled and mourned sleeping so long. He'd probably missed his master's return and now he'd have to wait alone, until morning. Begrudgingly he sat in the middle of the bed with his robes bunched and wrinkled around his hips and thought, as promised, about what it was he wanted.

It was a silly activity, he knew, because no matter how hard he thought he would always come to the same conclusion – Snape. All he wanted was his master, any way he would have him. It was pathetic and weak and most likely an unhealthy attachment, but he didn't care. He loved Harry, and he still wanted to know him intimately. He wanted that more than he would ever admit. But he would rather spend the rest of his days with a locked soundproof door between them if that's what it would take to keep what he had with his master.

As the room turned blue from the moon moving into the shadow of the window, Fred allowed himself to cry himself to sleep again thinking about all the ways he wished his life were easier, and all the ways he wished he could be a better version of himself, and all the ways he wished and unwished that he were never a slave. He was clutching the slave robe to his chest desperately as he drifted off.

Fred awoke to find the room suddenly flooded with light. He was curled in a ball with his robe clutched halfway up his torso. He blinked twice before he realized that it was still night and the light was coming from the hallway. But before he had time to look up the door was shut and it was dark again. He sat up and almost jumped across the room to the master-shaped shadow standing against the door. Instead he just sat there, waiting.

The silence and stillness was eerie and suffocating, but eventually Snape approached him slowly, and to Fred's amazement, he kneeled down beside the bed and laid his face in Fred's lap as if exhausted.

Fred's skin was tingling at the contact and the warm breath of his master against his thigh. Eventually he couldn't stand it anymore so he threaded his fingers in the long black hair and curled his body over the other man until he own cheek pressed into his back, still fragrant from the sooty floo.

"I don't know how to do this, Fred." Snape whispered. "I'm trying my best, but I just don't know how."

"What are you talking about?" Fred asked.

"I'm a fool to think that I deserve your devotion. I don't."

Fred choked back a sob and sat up, pushing on his master's shoulders. Snape looked up at him. His eyes were glistening. He reached up with his left hand and brushed at Fred's cheeks. "You shouldn't cry for me."

"I hurt you today," Fred said. "I hurt the person I love the most and it was killing me. Of course I would cry. And why aren't you angry with me? What happened?"

Snape chuckled miserably. "Nothing happened. I just had the time to realize that I can only blame myself for this morning. I haven't been what you need."

Fred couldn't stand being above his master anymore so he scooted off the bed and landed in Snape's lap, with his long legs wrapped around his back. "I'm sorry to say this, master. But, you are an idiot." He smiled fondly at him and then nuzzled his head under his chin.

"I expect too much of you, without… without giving enough back."

Fred shook his head no, but didn't have the energy to say more. He was too caught up in the pleasure of his lips against his master's hot pulsing neck. He dared a kiss and when he got no complaint he latched on and started to nip his way across the man's throat and down to his too highly buttoned collar. He ran his hands down his master's arms, which tensed below his touch. When he got to Snape's hands he stopped. The left hand was open and slightly damp from clutching it into a fist, but the right was grasping something. He looked down and gasped. Wrapped around his grip was the rarely used leather quidditch belt that had appeared repetitively in Fred's fantasies. He caressed the hard leather and his breath quickened.

"It's not a punishment. I… I would never," Snape said. Fred nodded.

"If there is one thing I regret most it's forgetting, even for a moment, that you've already given me much more than I ever dared to ask for. And in exchange I promise to never again doubt what you ask of me. What you need. I think tonight is the right time to begin. Don't you?"

Fred's throat was closing up. He didn't know how to respond. The anticipation, the fear, the desire, the excitement were muddling him and he couldn't think – so he stopped trying, relaxed into his master's safe embrace, and just nodded.

* * *

><p><strong><em>If you feel forgiving - reviews are always appreciated :)<br>_**

_-poppypickford_


	9. Chapter 8 INTERLUDE

**_Story information, warnings and disclaimer can be found in the first chapter._**

**_A/N: _**__Please be warned for **MATURE** rated material and **BDSM** themes.__

_This is just a quick little interlude that immediately follows the previous chapter.__ It is regrettably not beta read as I decided, spur of the moment, to post tonight despite its flaws.  
><em>

_I hope you enjoy!_**_  
><em>**

**_-poppypickford  
><em>**

* * *

><p>Fred was still staring at the belt when his master finally pulled away from him tensely. In the dark Fred could hardly see his eyes and it made his chest tight with excitement and just a hint of panic.<p>

Snape gently pushed Fred off his lap and stood. Fred wrapped his arms around himself from his sprawled position on the floor, and waited. Snape was standing too still and too quiet, the belt still wrapped around his fist.

"Strip and kneel," he said finally. His voice was firm and commanding and it startled Fred. This tone was new, similar to his master's angry voice but without the quiver of barely controlled fury. Fred shook the thought from his head and hurried to comply. He pulled off his wrinkled robe and kneeled with his head bowed before his master. Fred didn't know what he'd expected, but somehow he'd assumed that Snape would be uncomfortable with much more than gently laying him out on the bed and then petting him with whispered apologies after. This—this was something else entirely.

"Lower." Snape said.

Fred had already shakily lowered himself fully, until his nose touched the rug in the bedroom. He was trembling and it made his arms vibrate.

"I'm sorry, master." Fred said quietly.

"Don't be sorry, just remember what instructions I give you tonight because I will expect you to follow them without reminding next time."

Fred's breath quickened at the mention of a next time.

Suddenly it went quiet and all Fred could hear was his master slowly circling him. Fred's cock swelled in response to the attention and he squirmed. The other man's hand suddenly came down with a swat on his ass. Fred gasped in alarm.

"Stop squirming."

Fred managed a guttural affirmation in response and stilled himself until his muscles were sore with the effort. That was the first time his master had stuck him. The spot was a little warm but hardly painful. It hadn't been rough—not rough enough really.

"Stand up and lean over the bed, with your feet on the floor."

Fred stood shakily and did as he was told without a word. He was trying to think ahead, ponder the reality of what was about to happen to him, steady the panic, control the desire, anything. But, the tension was too much and he couldn't keep a straight thought.

Snape must have noticed this because as soon as he was in his new position his hand came down on his back gently but firmly and stayed there, not moving for a long time. Long enough for Fred to sort through everything he was feeling and dismiss his doubts and anxieties.

"Take 10 deep breaths for me, Fred," his master said smoothly. "Don't think about anything else now, just think about breathing."

Fred tried to nod but his head felt suddenly heavy. He breathed once and felt his master's hand move with the rise and fall of his back. He did it again nine times and at the end he felt fuzzy and lightheaded from oxygen. Suddenly his master's hand disappeared and the absence was startling and cold.

"On the count of three, Fred. Prepare yourself."

Fred tensed.

"One."

Fred gripped the coverlet and dug his toes into the carpet. His heart was beating too fast.

"Two"

His knees were shaking, so he leaned forward more until his chest was supporting his weight. The hairs on Fred's arms were tingling and his mouth had gone dry. Should he tell his master to stop? Did he really want this? He hadn't prepared himself for how hard his heart would beat.

"Three"

Fred gasped as he heard, in almost the same moment, the final word from his master and the sound of the belt slicing through the air. The sensation of the leather hitting his lower back was like a lick of fire. He cried out.

The whooshing sound came again, but this time the strike hit him lower, across the hips. He clenched and unclenched his muscles, involuntarily pulling his hips away and then pressing back again when the leather retreated. His skin was impossibly hot and the pain was strange, foreign, and indescribable. Fred tried to put a word to it but the next strike of the belt was faster and he couldn't keep up. It hit him on the delicate skin of his ass.

"Stop!" Fred cried, the shock of the sensation warring with him and winning out. As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted it. He shook his head and rocked his hips and clutched at the blankets and mumbled apologies. He didn't want it to stop yet, this wasn't right. This wasn't the way he was supposed to feel, was it? Desperate and anxious and panicked? Fred was still shaking his head when his master's trembling hand come down and buried in his hair.

"Fred. Up on the bed. On your stomach."

Fred scrambled to obey, too frazzled to do more than blindly obey. When he was settled he sighed at the relief to his shaky knees.

"Reach your arms up here." Snape said.

Fred hesitated. Slowly he reached up with his wrists crossed. They'd fucked like this before. The murmured hand cuffing charm was placed and Fred felt the resistance immediately. He pulled and there was no give.

With a few quiet footsteps, his master walked to the foot of the bed and place one still trembling hand around Fred's ankle as if asking permission. Fred's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't stupid, he knew what this was. The question was how willing was he to release this much control? Was he ready to deny himself the right of flight?

Cautiously, Fred moved his legs apart until each foot was pointed toward the corners of the bed. Without hesitating, Snape cast the spell twice more until Fred was spread wide and manacled. He tensed all of his muscles as if trying to move away, but it was hopeless. He nodded to himself, and then wrapped his hands around the invisible rope.

"Take ten more breaths, Fred. I'll count." Fred listened for the low soothing baritone of his master's voice for permission to breath, and felt all of his shakes disappearing. When ten had come and gone, Fred was too out of body to worry about the belt coming again. When it did, this time flat in the center of his arse, he groaned and pulled at his restraints, before relaxing again. Somehow the pain was different now. Hot and sharp, yes, but the manic ferocity of the feeling was gone. The sounds were muddied and Fred could barely hear the whooshing sound before the strike. Instead he just waited until the lick was upon him. He yelped and moaned and cursed, but it all felt good somehow and like a much-needed release for his vocal cords.

The binding spell made it easy for Fred to pull away and writhe without chaffing his wrists or worrying about staying in form. After several minutes everything felt warm and tingly, so when another strike came down against his hips, it felt more like a hot caress. Like someone had run a too hot cloth over his skin. He sighed and followed the feeling with his hips.

The sounds in the room were still buzzing and Fred was lazily rubbing his cheek against the bedspread. He hadn't even noticed that the whipping had stopped until his hands and feet were suddenly free and he curled in on himself.

A dip in the bed signaled the added presence of his master, but he didn't have the energy to think, much less move. Suddenly strong hands came up under his arms and tugged him up until he was laying in the curve of his master's arms. Snape put an arm over him protectively and held Fred's head against his chest protectively. But it wasn't until his master delicately lay his fingers against Fred's back that Fred broke loose. The touch was like fire and it brought back all the emotion. He buried his face in his master's neck and wept quietly until he fell asleep.

XXXXXXXXXXX

When Fred awoke, he couldn't know how much time had passed. It was still deeply dark, but the coolness in the room suggested early morning. He hadn't moved an inch, and his master's steady breathing told him that Snape was still awake, still holding tightly to Fred, but now stroking softly over Fred's back. The sensation was nearly painless now, just comforting.

"That was intense," he whispered.

Snape tensed and his fingers stilled.

"How do you feel?" He asked.

"Good."

The stroking continued. "Master?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Have you—" He gulped. "Have you done that before?"

Snape tensed so tightly, that the muscles under Fred's cheek turned rock hard. "Yes. I have. A long time ago and under very different circumstances."

Fred nodded.

"There was many reasons why I was hesitant in doing this with you. It not being the first time I have used a whip was the primary."

"When you were a death eater?" Fred asked.

"Yes. And no. I was interested in—" he paused, "playing with power dynamics long before I was a death eater, back when it was purely for fun. Word got out years later and I was often asked to wield a whip in less than pleasant circumstances."

Fred pressed his lips to his master's chest and kissed. "I'm so sorry."

"What I do with you is different than anything else I've experienced. However, the manual skill remains." Snape was breathing hard. "Did I—that is, did I give you what you wanted?"

Fred chuckled lazily. "No."

Snape tensed.

"What I wanted wouldn't have been half so good. You gave me what I needed and it was incredible. Thank you."

They laid in silence of a while, just feeling each other breath.

"May I put a pain reducing potion on your back?"

Fred stirred, and nodded. "Okay. But use the mild one. The green one. I want to feel it for a couple days." Fred moved away as his master left the bed with a grunt of agreement and disappeared. He would have to go to the potions closet upstairs for it.

The warm space he'd left was like a magnet that Fred rolled into and rubbed his naked skin against blissfully. He could already feel the stiff tightness in his back. He wanted the soreness, but he also needed to be able to move fairly normally. He had gardening to do the next day if he wanted to plant seeds soon.

Snape returned with soft padded footsteps and knelt on the bed. Fred hummed as the potion was rubbed into his skin, but didn't bother to open his eyes. At some point he dozed off and only awoke briefly when his master crawled into bed naked and gathered him into his arms as the sun was just beginning to peek up over the hillsides in the distance.


	10. Chapter 9

_The wait on this has been unreal, I know. I have no excuse for myself. But, for those of you still reading (or who even remember the plot) please enjoy! Mostly fluff and porn in this one! _

* * *

><p>Fred smiled as he stood at the mirror in his master's room, looking over one shoulder at the marks on his back.<p>

Snape watched from the doorway. "Don't look so pleased with yourself, it's indecent."

Fred shrugged and then continued scrubbing the little bar of soap between two hands and washing his face. He still had some sticky tear tracks on his cheeks that were now more irritating than anything else. He'd woken up feeling better than he could ever remember.

With one hand resting casually on the towel rack Snape eyed him up and down with concentration. The sun was coming up and they both knew that Harry wasn't a late riser. Fred had almost forgotten about the other boy, but now that he thought about it, Harry must be crawling with anxiety.

"Remember what I said before." Snape said as he looked at him carefully in the mirror. "This is something that I give to you, when and how I choose it. I won't allow it any other way."

Fred nodded. "I remember."

"Good."

"Are you off to talk with Harry?"

"Yes. And furthermore you might have to spend a few nights alone. I'm sorry."

Fred wiped his face with a towel before hanging it back over the side of the sink. He turned around and pecked his master on the corner of his lips.

"Don't be sorry. I'm set up for a week, at least." The smile he gave his master was big and bright enough to earn him a rare chuckle.

"You say that now."

The two stood pressed together in comfortable silence. Fred laid his cheek against his master's chest, and Snape ran his fingers lazily up and down Fred's spine.

"I'm sorry, again," Fred whispered.

"It's over and forgiven now. Why don't you go down and work on your garden."

"Yes, master."

* * *

><p>Harry hadn't slept much. He'd stayed awake most of the night staring at the ceiling overtop of his bed, thinking, just as his master had asked, about what exactly it was he wanted. Thinking about what he wanted was not something Harry was used to doing. In fact, it was something that he'd learned to stop doing all together. Living with Lucius had taught him that he had two courses of action in life. The first – to think and do and want whatever he wanted, which would eventually result in a painful death, if he were lucky. Or, the second option – to do only what he was told, think only what was necessary, and want absolutely nothing at all in order to survive one more day. Not surprisingly, Harry chose the second option every time.<p>

However, since being bought by Snape, Harry had slowly come to learn that the first option was something once again on the table for him. Although he didn't doubt for a second that obedience was now and would always be required of him as a slave, there was a whispering in the back of his mind remembering what it was like to not just want something, but to go after it until he got it. The fact that the thing he wanted was to be fucked senseless by his once hated potions master and a deatheater was beyond the point. Someday he would have to come to terms with the mentality of his old life and his new, but for now he was content to ignore what the old Harry would think.

This revelation was exactly why Harry was sitting naked and leaning back on his elbows atop his fully made bed. Eventually Snape would come speak to him and if this wasn't answer enough as to what Harry wanted, he really didn't know what else he could do.

And when Snape finally did knock once, and then enter, Harry wasn't even a little bit nervous or embarrassed. In fact he was happy enough to burst at the hungry look his Master gave him.

"I'm starting to see why Fred couldn't resist himself."

Harry grinned and crawled to the end of the bed in the most seductive way he knew. "I don't want to talk about Fred, Master."

Snape raised his eyebrow. "Is that so? I've yet to hear you mention many things you want. Does this mean you've thought about what I asked?"

Harry nodded. "I want you, and I'm tired of being a good boy who waits patiently."

If Snape was the type of man to smile like a fool he would, but instead he just came close to Harry, wrapped his hand around the back of his neck, and claimed his new slave's mouth hungrily and without apology, especially when Harry moaned sweetly and grasped at his collar.

"Please, master. Please fuck me, I want it. I want you to."

Snape caressed the long soft length of Harry's arms down to the firming muscles in his back, all the while trying to be gentle with the fragile feeling bones still showing through his skin.

Snape sucked on Harry's bottom lip until the boy left scratches along the back of his neck where his hands were grasping him and shaking with pent up need.

"I'm glad to know what you want, Harry, but no. You're not ready." Harry groaned and shook his head. "I am! Please, master!"

Snape leaned down for another heated kiss before laying Harry back against the sheets. Snape stepped away and went to the wardrobe where in Fred's drawer he kept a stash of lube.

Harry smiled from ear to ear and spread his legs open wide when Snape returned.

"Patience."

Snape dropped the lube on the bed beside Harry and ran his hands from Harry's chest and down in one long luxurious stroke that had Harry arching off the bed. He stopped at Harry's hips and wrapped his hands around his slave. Harry's erection was hard and sitting long across his stomach, begging to be touched.

Snape stood back finally after taking his look and removed his shirt, but left the trousers on if for no other reason than to reign in his own desires to take Harry on his word and just pound him into the mattress.

Finally, he dropped to his knees at the end of the bed. Harry looked down his body at him in shock before groaning when Snape pulled him by the legs to the edge of the bed, set his thighs over his shoulders and leaned over his slave's straining erection to take it in his mouth. Harry screamed.

Giving head was something Snape enjoyed. It was also something he enjoyed receiving, but unlike many other slave owners, he never really saw the point in considering the act below him. Before he had slaves it made his few partners happier and more satisfied than few other things did, and now that he had slaves he couldn't help but become addicted to the looks on their faces when he did this.

Sensing that Harry didn't have much longer to last he came off his cock and said - "Don't come until I tell you, can you do that?"

Harry sucked in a ragged breath and nodded. "Yes, master."

Snape reached for the lube and poured some onto his fingers, all the while trying to ignore the desperate increase in Harry's breathing. To distract Harry again he began swirling his tongue along the tip of his cock and down in long swipes until he could take the boy's balls in his mouth. When Harry was once again deep in his own head and overcome with sensation, Snape took the cock in his mouth and at the same moment slipped one slick finger into his body. Harry froze and clutched at the sheets.

"You doing okay?"

Harry was shaking when he nodded.

Using one finger to slowly fuck in and out of Harry's body, Snape mimicked the motions of his mouth. Finally he ghosted over the bump inside him and the boy keened. Using an additional finger he quickly slipped inside again and pressed up hard. If Fred were anywhere still in the house he surely heard the noise Harry made.

"Master, will you kiss me? Please."

Snape leaned forward with Harry's legs still around his neck and granted his request - long and deep and messy while he continued to stroke him with his fingers.

"How do you like your fucking?" He asked with a growl.

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

"Come to my bed tonight and I'll give you more."

Harry whined and wiggled on the bed so uncontrollably that Snape worried he would be in pain soon if he didn't let the boy come.  
>"Whenever you're ready, Harry." He said before bending back over his slave's erection.<p>

Harry only needed to be told once.

* * *

><p>Harry wandered out to the garden with a slight limp in his step and a stupid grin. With one hand over his eyes Fred watched him approach, and stuffing the immediate burst of jealousy, he smiled back. When Harry was close he stopped, as if unsure of how much proximity was allowed.<p>

"You can come closer, Harry."

He nodded, thankfully, and dropped to his knees beside his Fred. He pulled on a pair of gardening gloves and picked up a trowel. Fred, sensing a need for it, leaned over and bumped Harry in the shoulder.

"You know, he doesn't want us to act any differently with each other. We're allowed to be friends. We just aren't allowed to be sexual. There's a big difference.

Harry nodded. "I know. It's just weird."

"Yeah."

They dug for a long time, until Fred's wrist started to ache. When he looked up, Harry was staring off into the forest.

"How far do Snape's borders go?" he asked.

Fred shrugged. "A ways, I guess. But you should always stay close. It's hard to know when you've gone too far, and if you do you'll set off the slave alarms."

Harry shuddered and went back to his gardening.

"That happened once at Lucius's," he said, "to Lavender."

Fred frowned. "She tried to run away?"  
>"No, I don't think she thought she could actually escape. She just, well, it was the first year and I think she just broke down inside and was trying to find space, to breath. But after that, he didn't let us out of the house again anyway."<p>

Fred laid a hand on his friends back and rubbed in soothing circles. "I'm really sorry, Harry."

They slipped out of the melancholy attitude and continued gardening for a long time, each absorbed in digging and getting the sweet smelling soil between their fingers. Eventually they put their things away in a carrying case they use and sat back on their hand to look up at the sky.

"Fred?"

"Hmmmmm?"

"Don't you want to ask about George?"

"What - what do you mean?"

Harry's gaze is intense. "He's your brother. I don't remember a lot from before, but I remember that he was your best friend."

Fred nodded. "Yeah, he was a lot more than my best friend."

"Then why don't you ever ask about him?"

Fred swallowed back a lump in his throat. "I know enough from what Severus has told me to know that there's nothing you could tell me that I'd want to hear." He paused to wipe a hand over his eyes. "When the day comes that I get him back, I'll let him tell me everything himself. When I can be the kind of person with the power to protect him."

Harry was crying a little so Fred hugged him with one arm. "Do you suppose he thinks about me?"

Harry chocked back a laugh. "I don't think he does anything but think of you."

"Well, that's good at least."

* * *

><p>Snape had spent the majority of his day at the ministry avoiding Lucius like the plague. And he even went so far as to have his assistant send away all distractions and appointments, just so that he could assure himself a quiet office where he could think about the insanity that was going on in his personal life, with the council, and of course with the wizarding world as a whole. Things were coming to a head and he wasn't sure he was fully prepared to meet the changes.<p>

And as for Fred and Harry, in the quiet of his warm office he couldn't help but think about them, as he'd tried so hard not to do. Through the veil of anger and jealousy that had been clouding his judgment the past days he'd been so unable to even imagine the two alone together in the same room that he had been dangerously close to moving them into two separate slave bedroom. But now as he is settled in from the surprisingly cathartic experience of Fred's voluntary punishment and Harry's new unabashed eagerness, Snape had found himself much more assured in his boy's affection than he had been the previous day. And as he thought now of his slaves together, the images began to stir him with more arousal than jealousy.

Snape finally made his way home later than expected after Draco insisted to be seen in his office after hours to discuss Hermione's growing impatience that they bring Harry into their research. The conversation was more frustrating than anything, but eventually Snape conceded and agreed to speak with Harry within the week and see if he might remember anything.

When he went upstairs it was already dark and he could feel the sleep behind his eyes. Fred was sitting in the slave's bedroom with the door open, reading.

"Hey, master."

Snape stood against the doorframe to watch him and smile. "Did things go well with Harry this afternoon? Any hard feelings I should know about?"

Fred smiled, put down his book, and shook his head. "Not at all. He's getting more resilient, and I think he trusts you now. Speaking of which, he's waiting for you in your bedroom. He was rather excited."

Snape smirked and sighed. "Well, I hope I prove worth the anticipation - and his trust for that matter."

"You are worthy," Fred says as he came to stand before Snape where he could grasp his hand. "You don't have anything to prove."

"You're an idealistic optimist."

"Yeah, that's probably true." His smile had faded and his expression grew serious. "Harry asked me today if I wanted to know about George."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him I knew enough."

Snape petted him along the back of the neck and leaned down to kiss him firmly. When Fred came out of the kiss he looked a bit more grounded.

"I haven't hid anything for you," he said. "I've been honest about George."

"I believe you. I just don't believe that Lucius let's you see the worst. And when I think about what Harry must know..."

Snape held him close and breathed in the scent of his hair. "I'm working hard to get him back to you. I am."

Fred nodded into the crook of his master's neck.

"I don't want to leave you alone tonight."

"It's okay. Harry needs you."

"Harry got what he wanted earlier. He'll be happy to sleep with us tonight."

Fred looked up at him with a frown. "Isn't it a little early?"

"No. I want to try something. Come with me?"

When they'd walked together into the bedroom, Harry, who had been waiting naked on the bed, jolted up.

Fred grinned mischievously and looked to Snape for direction, but he said nothing as he went into his wardrobe to undress and hang up his heavy outer coat and shoes. When he was in nothing but his trousers and shirt, he came back out to find the two boys staring at each other and breathing hard. Maybe this would be a good idea after all.

Snape stood behind Fred and let him lean his weight back against him and then titled his head down to whisper into his slave's ear - giving him directions and encouragements that made him pant. When he'd finished Fred turned and smiled at him.

"Am I allowed to tell you that I'm proud of you?" he whispered.

"Just this once."  
>Fred turned back around and looked at Harry who had stopped hiding his nudity but was still far from relaxed. While Fred removed his tunic, Snape began to talk.<p>

"I was just explaining to Fred one of the other reasons I got so angry about what you two did yesterday."

Harry cringed.

"Although I won't tolerate things going on behind my back, I would have to be made of ice to have not wanted to see what my two beautiful boys would look like together."

Harry's eyebrows knit together. "Master?"

Fred looked to him for direction and he nodded. "Fred, I want to watch you kiss him. Show me what I missed."

Fred grinned and sauntered to the bed. Harry looked, open mouthed at Fred naked and crawling up over him. He glanced at Snape with a touch of panic in his eyes.

"You can't do anything wrong when you have my permission, Harry. Relax."

Harry turned back to a smiling Fred who took the opportunity to lean down and press a chaste kiss to his friend's lips. Harry followed the kiss as Fred broke away and then licked his lips. Snape could feel his erection blossoming so he sat back in his wingback to watch. Fred had positioned himself between Harry's spread legs but kept his hips decidedly removed from contact. He ran a hand over Harry's chest with concentration and swooped down for another kiss. This time deeper and with more enthusiasm. Harry froze for a minute before relaxing into the attention and returning the kiss with fervor.

Through the sound of pleasure and the wet smack of lip to lip and tongue, Snape leaned back and put one hand over his cock to adjust the pressure building up there.

Fred moved off Harry's mouth and latched onto his neck. Harry gasped and looked over at Snape with a wide open mouth and hazy eyes and Snape couldn't help but focus in on where they were working to keep their cocks from touching. So much so that Fred was keeping his hips lifted uncomfortably away. So, he stood and Harry watched him intently as he walked over. With one hand Snape ran his fingers over Fred's hips and back and lingered with his palm caressing one cheek. Fred hummed his approval and continued lavishing attention on Harry. Without thinking twice, Snape pushed down. Fred looked over his shoulder at him with a smile before letting his hips fall onto Harry's. Harry gasped and pressed himself into the welcome heat of another body. Fred was still sucking a dark hickey into Harry's shoulder so he leaned down and kissed Harry's open lips.

"You doing okay?" he asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, master. Thank you."

"Fred," he said, but Fred didn't still the movement of his hips or the sucking to answer except with a hum.

"Today Harry learned the joys of having his cock sucked. Do you think you'd like to show him what a great talent you are?"

Fred moaned low and thrust his hips into Harry's and pushed back into Snape's groping hand. Fred placed one last kiss on Harry's lips before moving down and swallowing his friend's cock so deep his nose pressed into his stomach. Harry's eyes flew open and he gasped. "Master, please!"

Snape caught his face in his hand and held him firmly. "What do you need?"

He shook his head. "I don't know."

Snape pulled off his shirt and threw it aside, and then, just because of the intense gaze Harry had directed below his waist, he unbuttoned his trousers as well and kicked them aside. Harry groaned long and low and fisted his hands in the sheets. Snape kneeled next to him on the bed and bent over to kiss him.  
>"Good surprise?"<p>

"Yes, thank you, master."

"You two are so beautiful together and I'm selfish enough to want you all to myself."

Harry smiled and gasped at something Fred was doing.

"Can I come?"

Snape nodded and watched his face explode with pleasure under him.

"That's it," he hummed while running his fingers over his lips. "Good boy."

Harry fell asleep almost immediately and Fred and Snape lay on either side of him, smiling at each other.

"Thank you, master."

"It's better like this, isn't it?"

"Yes. It's better. But, will I still -"

"Have me to yourself sometimes? Of course. But you understand, don't you, that Harry can't know anything about our new arrangement. I doubt he'd understand after everything he's been through."

Fred nodded. "I know."

Snape leaned over and kissed him.

"You taste like him."

Fred smiled brilliantly and licked his lips. "I know. Isn't it delicious?"

* * *

><p>After Fred and Snape had taken a shower - together but without the energy to do more than occasionally pet and kiss and smile, they went back to bed with Snape in the middle and his boys on either side.<p>

Snape lay awake for long time listening to Fred's breath even out and turn into soft snores.

Harry rolled closer to him. "You know what, master?"

Snape looked down at him. "What's that?"

"Kissing you is better."

Snape smirks. "You're a good boy to say so. But I know that Fred is young and fit and -"

"Don't think I'm ungrateful, master. It's just, better, because it's you. Kissing Fred is fun, but kissing you is - something more."

Snape gazed at him darkly.

"Fred would say the same if you asked him," Harry concluded.

"How do you know?"

"Fred and I really like each other, master. But he loves you."

Snape smiled and kissed Harry on the head before gathering him up to sleep.


End file.
